


she used to meet me on the east side

by hedaswolf (thebaddestwolf)



Series: she used to meet me on the east side [1]
Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Pining, Post-Pitch Perfect 2, Romance, Roommates, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:28:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28390161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebaddestwolf/pseuds/hedaswolf
Summary: After college, Beca and Chloe move into a railroad apartment in New York. Having to walk through Choe’s room to get to her own won’t be a problem for Beca, right? On an unrelated note, why are there butterflies in Beca’s stomach whenever Chloe is around?a.k.a. the one where Beca keeps walking into Chloe’s room at the absolute worst times
Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell
Series: she used to meet me on the east side [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2171790
Comments: 344
Kudos: 569





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi! after years of reading bechloe fic, I had to try my hand at one! it was the leaked PP3 kiss that pushed me over the edge. //sighs for eternity//
> 
> anyway, this premise features around a railroad apartment. if you don't know what that is, [here's an image of the layout](https://cheapthrillsbeca.tumblr.com/private/638803328078413824/tumblr_qhNvPrS97nYS9qlyg) that is pretty similar to Beca and Chloe's place in this.
> 
> hope you guys like it! pls let me know your thoughts :D

Beca doesn’t think anything can top the way she feels after winning Worlds.

The elation starts to fade on the flight home, because her mind’s fun like that. She’s going to be one of those people who peaked early, who’ll rock up to her 20 year high school reunion drunk off wine coolers and yakking about that one time she won an acapella world championship in college.

Shit.

She shivers at the thought, pulls the sleeves of her hoodie down over her fists. No, nothing will ever top this. It’s all downhill from here.

Then Chloe leans across the arm rest, gives her one of those heartbreakingly earnest, hopeful smiles.

“So I’ve been thinking,” she says, squeezing Beca’s wrist. “I want to move with you to New York.”

And just like that, Beca is proved wrong.

***

Fat Amy plans to join them at first, but soon those plans fall apart because, well, Amy’s Amy.

“I’m definitely coming eventually though, Beca, I swear. I know you can’t survive long without me, and god knows Chloe doesn’t have any street smarts. I won’t leave you to fend for yourselves for long.”

There’s some street performance act she’s creating that the rest of the world isn’t ready for, apparently, so New York City is the only place to launch it. She just needs some time. Maybe in six months, she says. A year, tops.

And Beca loves Fat Amy -- really, truly loves her -- but she can’t help the butterflies that swirl in her stomach when she thinks about moving in with Chloe alone. (What is _that_ about?)

“Guess that means Manhattan’s off the table,” Chloe says when Beca tells her.

They’re huddled together on Beca’s bed, surrounded by half-packed boxes, balancing the laptop across their thighs as they scroll through Craigslist listings. Beca nods and adjusts the search criteria to reflect their lower budget.

“Yeah.” She sighs, trying her best to act put out. “Guess so.”

***

“I wonder what you’re going to be like as a roommate, Bec.”

“What are you talking about? We’ve been roommates for like three years now.”

“I know, but this will be different. Just us, you know? No Stacie blasting her workout music or Flo hogging all the hot water or--”

“Hey, don’t start crying again.”

“I won’t! I won’t. I’m just saying, I don’t know what you’re like when it’s only the two of us. No one else.”

“Well when you inevitably get sick of my unfettered sparkling personality, just remember it was your idea to move to New York with me.”

“Ugh Beca, why do you always deflect when I’m trying to be serious?”

“See?! You’re sick of me already. Sure you want to sign up for this, Beale?”

***

They find a railroad apartment in Astoria.

Beca hadn’t heard of that before. Why you would design an apartment with all the rooms in a line, so that you have to walk through one to get to the next, is beyond her.

But the apartment is super adorable, to use Chloe’s words. It’s bright and cosy and two blocks from the N train. And, most importantly, it’s cheap enough for two recent grads starting out in entry-level jobs.

The matter of the bedroom situation doesn’t occur to Beca until well after they’ve emailed the signed lease. At first she’s just happy that they could afford two bedrooms on their measly budget. It just seems safer, what with her weird new butterflies and other long-ignored feelings.

But now, as they drop their suitcases in the living room-slash-kitchen and walk through the apartment for the first time, it dawns on her that one bedroom serves as the pass through to the other. And while it’s not like she had much privacy back at Barden, sharing a room with Amy, somehow this feels completely different.

Vulnerable, almost.

Maybe?

She’s not sure.

***

They flip a coin to decide who gets the more private room at the back.

Chloe wins.

She lets Beca have the room anyway.

***

That first night, Beca feels kinda tipsy even before she takes a sip of the cheap wine they picked up at the liquor store down the block. They sit on pillows in the empty living room and cheers with two jelly jar glasses they found in the kitchen cabinet.

They’d spent the day exploring their new neighborhood, Chloe practically bouncing on her toes as she typed the names of the shops and cafes she wanted to revisit in the notes app on her phone.

And while Beca’s not exactly the bouncing kind, she’s pretty excited too. She’s finally out of Georgia, finally in a city where she can work toward making her dreams a reality. Throw in her favorite person being by her side, and it almost feels unreal.

The apartment buzzer rings and it’s so loud that they both nearly jump out of their skin. Chloe recovers first, giggling at Beca, who’s still trying to get her heart rate under control.

“Holy shit,” she mutters, palm pressed to her chest. “We have to tape a sock over that thing or cut the wires or something. I won’t survive that happening again.”

The buzzer rings again, as if on cue, and Beca will fully deny it later but she shrieks a little bit.

Chloe collapses against Beca’s side and lets out a peal of laughter. She rests her temple on Beca’s shoulder and winds her arms around her waist, still giggling to herself.

“You still with us?” she asks.

Beca can feel her breath on her neck, which does nothing to help calm her frayed nerves.

“Barely,” she says, wriggling out of Chloe’s arms and standing.

“Aww, come back. That was just a joke. Don’t depart from this earth yet, okay? You can’t leave me, Beca.”

Chloe pouts up at her, batting her eyelashes and looking too damn sincere for someone who is definitely being sarcastic.

“Just departing this apartment, Chlo,” Beca says, fishing her wallet out of her bag. “That’s got to be the delivery guy with the Chinese we ordered.”

“Oh, right. Want me to come with?”

“No, I think I can handle it.”

“Okay. Be careful!”

***

They don’t have any plates yet, so they wind up eating lo mein and orange chicken right out of the red and white cartons. Thank god for the pairs of wooden chopsticks they found at the bottom of the greasy paper bag, because they don’t have utensils yet either.

“Do you think people actually do this in real life?” Beca asks, mouth half full of noodles. “Eat right out of the Chinese food carton?”

Chloe tilts her head to the side. “Well, we’re doing it now. Isn’t this real life?”

“Yeah, but these are extenuating circumstances,” Beca says, pausing to take another sip of wine. “In movies, whenever people are eating Chinese food, they’re always eating it directly out of the carton. But why would you do that if you have plates? Does everyone eat just one dish or do they pass the cartons around to share?”

“You’re so cute when you’re indignant.” Chloe winks at her and Beca narrows her eyes. “Speaking of, let’s swap. I want some noodles.”

They exchange cartons and Beca pokes at the chicken with her chopsticks. “Just saying, it seems impractical.”

“No, you have a point. Must be one of those movie magic things. You should take a pic and text it to Jesse -- bet he’ll love that.”

“Hah, yeah…” Beca shifts on her pillow and takes another gulp of wine, emptying her glass. She can feel Chloe’s eyes on her as she reaches for the bottle and splits what’s left of it between the two glasses. They really should’ve bought more wine.

“How... is Jesse?” Chloe asks, voice slow and soft, like she’s trying not to startle her. “You haven’t mentioned him today.”

And Beca doesn’t know why she was putting this off, especially with Chloe, who can read her better than anyone. (Or maybe she does know why, but doesn’t want to deal with that right now.)

“Yeah, about that…” she starts, watching the wine as she swirls it in the glass. “We decided the long distance thing wasn’t gonna work.”

Beca can imagine Chloe’s eyes right now -- all big and wide and wet -- but she can’t bring herself to look at her. In her peripheral vision she sees Chloe set her food down on the floor and scooch a few inches sideways before she pulls Beca into an awkward sideways hug.

“Dude, it’s fine,” Beca says, voice muffled against Chloe’s shoulder. “We knew it was coming. Honestly, it’s for the best.”

Chloe just squeezes her tighter and Beca knows this is one of those hugs that won’t end until she succumbs to it. So she relents, shifting toward Chloe and wrapping her arms around her. It’s still awkward, with Chloe’s knee pressing into her shin, but Chloe makes a little satisfied hum that Beca can feel in her chest.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I dunno, it just… didn’t come up?” Beca closes her eyes, involuntarily sinking further into Chloe. Maybe she needs a hug more than she thought. “I just got swept up in the excitement of us moving, I guess.”

“You don’t have to go through stuff like that alone, you know.”

“I know, Chlo. Thank you. And I’m sorry -- I should’ve told you.”

“Don’t be sorry.” Chloe presses her lips to Beca’s shoulder before gently moving away. “I’m just glad you’re okay. You’re sure you’re okay?”

Beca wraps her arms around herself, missing the warmth of Chloe against her more than she’d care to admit.

“Yeah,” she says, biting her bottom lip. “I’m okay.”

***

They sleep in their t-shirts between mismatched sheets on an inflatable air mattress in Chloe’s room. Before Chloe turned off the lights a few minutes ago Beca could hardly keep her eyes open, but now, lying in the middle of this empty room listening to the unfamiliar sounds coming from the street below, it hits her how far she is from home.

She turns onto her side and glances at Chloe to gauge her level of consciousness. Her eyes are closed and her features are soft and beautiful, but Beca can tell from the cadence of her breathing that she hasn’t fallen asleep yet.

“Beale, you awake?” she whispers anyway.

“Yeah,” Chloe whispers back, eyes fluttering open as a smile ghosts her lips. “Hi.”

Beca smiles in return, pulling the sheets closer and already feeling a bit better. “Hi.”

“Everything alright? Or did you miss me already?”

There are no curtains on the windows, but Beca hopes it’s dark enough for Chloe to miss the blush that spreads across her cheeks.

“Oh, uh. I was just thinking.... I mean, not to sound super lame, but like. We’re really alone out here, aren’t we?” Beca squeezes her eyes shut, cringing at herself. “You know, now that I say it out loud I realize how dumb that is, so never mind.”

The sheets rustle and then Chloe’s fingers are closing around Beca’s wrist.

“Hey, it’s not dumb,” she says, smoothing her thumb over Beca’s pulse point. Beca holds her breath, her whole body warming, and it takes a minute before she can open her eyes. When she does, Chloe tugs gently on her arm. “Come here.”

Beca stares at her, wondering how much closer they can get -- the air mattress is already cramped as it is. She doesn’t move a muscle, but Chloe doesn’t seem to mind. She inches closer to Beca, sliding forward until her head is on the edge of her pillow, her features nearly starting to blur.

She rests her arm across Beca’s waist, over the sheets, as Beca watches her with wide eyes, trying her best to quiet her shaky breaths.

“But we’re not alone,” Chloe says, slipping her foot between Beca’s ankles. “We have each other. Don’t we?”

Beca nods, gulps, hugs her hands to her chest. She wishes she could be like Chloe, so warm and affectionate. She thinks it would be nice to drape an arm around her, too. To fall asleep curled up together. She knows Chloe would like that. And… she knows she would too. But she doesn’t know what that means, exactly, and that uncertainty keeps her frozen in place.

But she decides she can enjoy the warmth and comfort that Chloe is offering. That’s what friends do, right?

“Yeah, no, you’re right,” she tells her. “We have each other.”

Chloe sighs contentedly, giving Beca a sleepy smile before closing her eyes. Beca watches her for a moment in the low light, feeling the warm weight of her arm around her, steadying her, making her eyes grow heavy again.

“I’m glad you’re here with me, Chlo,” she whispers.

“Me too, Becs.”

Beca falls asleep easily after that.

***

Both Beca and Chloe had negotiated the start dates at their new jobs to allow for a whole week to get settled.

Beca’s manager at Residual Heat’s east coast office wasn’t exactly thrilled about that, but her boss in Atlanta must’ve put in a good word because the new dude rolled over eventually. The job Chloe found at a nearby animal shelter was much more flexible, which suited her as she wasn’t sure of her long-term plans yet.

It’s kinda exhilarating, being in a new city with her favorite person. They spend the first few days getting lost on the subway, collecting Bed, Bath, & Beyond coupons, and ordering the cheapest beds they can find from Ikea.

Chloe handles the apartment decor, quickly brightening the space with paintings and plants and cute macrame wall hangings that she found at flea markets and second hand shops. Beca’s in charge of the sound system a.k.a. finding the best spots for her bluetooth speakers. She’s also in charge of figuring out how to get onto the roof, which was pretty easy once she saw the guys from across the hall sneaking onto the back stairwell with lawn chairs and a cooler.

And it’s surprising, really, how soon it starts to feel like home. The railroad-style layout of the apartment doesn’t seem to be as big of a problem as Beca initially feared. Chloe usually wakes up early to work out, so by the time Beca stumbles out of her room and walks through Chloe’s en route to the kitchen, the room is empty with the lights off and bed already made.

She doesn’t know what she was so worried about.

***

“We really need to go to a real grocery store, Chlo,” Beca says when she walks into the apartment on Sunday morning, half out of breath from jogging up the two flights. “The guy at the bodega already knows my name. That’s not a good sign.”

She sets the shopping bag on the kitchen counter and begins to unpack it -- smiling at the overpriced lip gloss that Chloe loves, which she bought for her as a little treat -- before she realizes said roommate hasn’t replied to her. Which is practically unheard of.

“What, no quip about how bodega guy is probably into me or something?” She grins and turns around, only to find that Chloe isn’t there. “Oh, I’m talking to myself now. That’s cool.”

She turns toward Chloe’s room and sees the door is closed.

“Hey Chloe, I’m home!” she says. “I made an okay joke out here about the bodega guy. You know what, never mind, you had to be there.”

Chloe calls out a muffled reply and Beca turns back to the groceries, singing to herself as she puts the cereal on the newly designated cereal shelf and slides a bottle of red pepper flakes onto the spice rack that Chloe found on the sidewalk on trash day.

She’s never been particular about keeping things organized or having a “streamlined kitchen flow,” as Chloe calls it, but she knows that Chloe does, so she’s happy to take the time to put everything in its proper place.

Once she puts everything away and hangs the bag on the reusable bag hook -- another idea of Chloe’s -- she makes her way back to her room. She can’t get the song she’s been singing out of her mind and it’s like an idea for a new mix is on the tip of her tongue. The song’s bridge is the key, she thinks, singing the verse again as she opens Chloe’s door.

“Ooh, that’s pretty,” Chloe says.

Beca jumps a little. “Oh hey,” she says, turning toward Chloe. “Sorry I kinda forgot you--”

She stutters to a stop as she comes to terms with the situation she finds herself in. Chloe’s standing at her dresser, over by the windows, in nothing but a bra and underwear. She’s bent at the waist, toweling off her hair, and Beca thanks every force in the universe that Chloe’s eyes are obscured by the towel because she needs a minute to school her features back into place.

Her whole body feels flushed and she gets this tight sensation in her chest, and it’s super confusing because Chloe is so beautiful but she’s pretty sure you aren’t supposed to get sweaty palms from looking at your best friend and, god, what even is happening right now?

Chloe straightens and turns to her, running her fingers through her damp hair. “You forgot what?”

“I, uh--” Beca stammers, fixing her eyes on the wall above Chloe. “I forgot to knock. I should’ve knocked. Sorry.”

Chloe laughs and shakes her head. “It’s fine. You know I don’t care.”

“I know but, I mean, you could’ve been…” Beca glances at her meaningfully before looking away again.

“Naked?” Chloe says, holding up her hands and wiggling her fingers sarcastically.

Beca huffs and finally meets Chloe’s eyes. “Yeah dude.” She sounds more annoyed than she means to, but it feels safe, so she goes with it. “You have a right to be naked in your own bedroom without me wandering in unannounced.” (Why is she gesturing with her arms so much?)

“Well that’s very considerate of you, roomie,” Chloe says sweetly, making Beca’s frown deepen. “But seriously, it’s not a big deal. Nothing you haven’t seen before, right?”

Beca scoffs, desperately trying to cling to her false indignation as that memory floods her mind. Her cheeks are definitely red now and she’s mad about it. Why is she still just standing here?

“Aw Becs, you’re so cute and flustered,” Chloe says, winking at her before finally pulling a damn shirt over her head. “Did Amy not change in front of you? Because I know she’s changed in front of, like, everyone else. On multiple occasions.”

“No, it’s not, _ugh_.” Beca pinches the bridge of her nose. “You know what, never mind. I’ll just knock next time.”

She turns swiftly and marches over to her bedroom door, muttering to herself about being an idiot.

“Come back soon!” Chloe calls after her. “Hey, what was that song you were singing? You sounded so good.”

Beca sighs and looks upwards for strength. “Put some pants on, Beale,” she says, before shutting her door behind her.

***

Beca leans back against her door, taking deep breaths and trying to ignore the fact that the whole leaning-against-a-door-you-just-closed-after-a-dramatic-moment thing often features in movies, too.

She can hear Chloe on the other side, humming the same song that Beca was just singing. And Beca’s flushed and guilty and confused, but she smiles.

This whole living together thing might be more complicated than she thought.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe start their jobs, make work friends, and get drunk together at a bar. Plus, Beca walks into Chloe's room at a bad time, once again.

It’s a little embarrassing, but Beca is pretty excited for her first day of work.

She’s actually glad her dad convinced her to stay at Barden, for a whole number of reasons -- one being that she’d spent the past four years learning a lot about music and her particular point of view. She has something to say, now, and she knows how to say it. She’s ready.

She can tell that Chloe is excited to start her job, too. They’d figured out their shower schedule the night before and this morning they move about each other easily; Beca starting a pot of coffee while Chloe’s in the shower, Beca finding a smiley face waiting for her on the bathroom’s steamy mirror.

They leave together and linger for a moment on the sidewalk outside their stoop before parting ways -- Beca to the subway and into Manhattan, Chloe to a bus that will take her 12 blocks east. 

“Dude, I’m like, kinda nervous,” Beca says, shaking out her hands. “It feels like the first day of school. Will the other kids like me? Will I have to eat alone at lunch?”

Chloe takes her hands and pulls her in closer. “You’re going to be amazing, Beca. Everyone will like you because it’s hard to miss how wonderful you are. And if no one asks you to lunch, just eat in a Starbucks or something.”

Beca blushes and smiles down at their joined hands. “Well, you’re kinda biased.”

“I am.” Chloe smiles. “But it’s true.”

Beca sighs and rolls her eyes, but she feels all warm inside and she knows she’s not fooling anyone, least of all Chloe.

“What about you? Any first day nerves?”

“Oh, I have a feeling my coworkers will like me. I’ll know if their tails are wagging.”

“Just remember that you can’t adopt any coworkers, okay?” Beca says sternly. “We can’t have pets. It’s in the lease.”

Chloe grins. “I’ll do my best.”

“Hey. Pinky swear.”

Beca drops Chloe’s hands (she was still holding them?) and holds up her pinky finger. Chloe shakes her head and chuckles to herself, like she just can’t believe she’s friends with such a dork, but it doesn’t take her long to link her pinky with Beca’s.

“I swear I won’t adopt any coworkers… today.”

“Chloe!”

“Okay, okay. I won’t adopt any without the landlord’s -- and my roommate’s -- express written permission.”

Beca frowns and narrows her eyes. “We’re gonna work on that. But it’ll have to do for now, because I’m gonna be late if I don’t get going.”

Chloe squeals, smiling wide, and throws her arms around Beca with so much force she nearly stumbles backwards.

“Today’s going to be amazing for both of us, I just know it. I already can’t wait to hear all about your day tonight when you get home.”

Beca squeezes Chloe back, wrapping her arms around her waist. “Me too, Chlo. You’re gonna do awesome too. Go get ‘em, Beale.”

Chloe pulls back, quickly pecking Beca’s cheek before she walks away.

“I meant that figuratively, by the way,” Beca calls after her. “Don’t get any animals. Remember the pinky promise!”

Chloe turns and grins at her. “Go catch your train, Mitchell!”

Beca’s still smiling to herself by the time she gets on the subway, and she’s halfway to her stop before she notices that she no longer feels nervous at all.

***

Turns out work at an entry-level job is, well… work at an entry level job.

Beca was prepared for this -- you have to pay your dues and all that -- but she didn’t realize it would be so soul-crushingly boring. Her first assignment is basically organizing audio files, which feels more or less on par with stacking CDs.

She’s envious of Chloe, who gets to play with puppies and kittens all day. (Chloe says there are a lot of cleaning duties too, but Beca thinks she’s just saying that to make her feel better.)

The only good things about Beca’s job are the other junior staff members, most of whom started around the same time as her. It turns out she has a lot in common with Jason, Caleb, and Alicia -- they hate doing menial tasks, rival her passion for music, and are all recent transplants in New York.

They help each other get through the day by chatting in a private Slack group and researching where they’ll go for their measly 30-minute lunch break. After lunch, the conversation turns to which bar they should go to after work.

They’re fun and Beca likes them a lot.

But she usually goes home to Chloe.

***

Even though they’ve already lived together for three years, as Beca reminded Chloe before they left Georgia, Beca is learning a lot about Chloe as a roommate.

And, well. She can be kinda annoying.

Chloe fills the bathroom with a ridiculous amount of products and other assorted beauty accessories, which Beca so does not get because she looks literally _amazing_ from the second she rolls out of bed. It seems like every week there’s a new curling iron for her to trip over or body butter to fall out of the bathroom cabinet.

(And don’t get her started on the razor that appeared in the shower one day that had the usual blades on one side and a trimmer on the other, and all the ensuing thoughts that gave her.)

Anyway. Chloe also uses way too many dishes. She is incapable of using the same spoon for both her cup of coffee and her yogurt at breakfast, for example, and just shrugs when Beca asks her what’s the deal.

She always washes the dishes too quickly, too. Beca wants to do her part -- they don’t have a dish washer and she’s more than willing to get her hands dirty (or clean or soapy or whatever) -- but she’s also prone to procrastination. She’ll put her cereal bowl in the sink, fully intending to wash it after work, but the sink is always empty before they leave for the day.

And did Beca mention the plants? It’s like they’re spontaneously reproducing like those chick dinosaurs in Jurassic Park. Succulents and hanging plants and flowers keep appearing all over the apartment, even on Beca’s windowsill.

Plus, Chloe always gives money to the kids who break dance on the subway.

Okay that one isn’t a roommate complaint, exactly, and it’s actually pretty cute, but Beca doesn’t love that Chloe’s blowing their cover and revealing that they’re Out-of-Towners. Real New Yorkers ignore that shit.

But the worst -- the absolute _worst_ \-- is when Beca walks through Chloe’s room in just a towel after showering. A normal person would just let it be, but nooo, not Chloe. She just has to wink at Beca, or wolf whistle, or make some jokey comment about how lucky she is to have a “hot naked girl” walk through her room every day.

And every time Beca has a cutting remark prepared, but she always clams up and just glares at Chloe as she rushes into her own bedroom.

See? Annoying, right?

***

Caleb [3:29 PM]: hey Jason we doing drinks for your bday tmrw?

Alicia [3:29 PM]: drinks! drinks! drinks!

Jason [3:29 PM]: yeahh man let’s do it up. my roommates were talking about the penrose on the UES. you in?

Alicia [3:30 PM]: what’s UES again?

Caleb [3:30 PM]: upper east side

Caleb [3:30 PM]: penrose sounds great!

Alicia [3:30 PM]: oh right

Alicia [3:30 PM]: yeah I’m down!

Alicia [3:30 PM]: Beca you have to come

Alicia [3:30 PM]: no excuses this time

Jason [3:30 PM]: i’m not taking no for an answer beca

Caleb [3:31 PM]: yeah beca. bring the wife

Beca [3:31 PM]: sorry i was on the phone

Beca [3:31 PM]: bring my what now??

Alicia [3:31 PM]: chloe!

Jason [3:31 PM]: the wifey - chloe. that is, if she exists

Caleb [3:31 PM]: lol

Beca [3:32 PM]: this kind of nonsense isn’t exactly making me want to introduce you to chloe

Beca [3:32 PM]: my ROOMMATE btw

Beca [3:32 PM]: who definitely exists, you nitwits

Beca [3:32 PM]: but i’ll see if she wants to join

***

Of course Chloe wants to go out with Beca and her coworkers. Of course she does. It’s like she’s never been so excited for something in her life.

(“I can’t wait to meet your friends, Bec! I know I’ve stalked all of them on social media, but it just isn’t the same. I can’t wait to hear stories about what you’re like at work.”)

It’s Friday, so they get dressed up. Beca wears her best black skinny jeans with a black camisole top (“very New York, Becs”) and Chloe slips on a short flowery dress with a cutout on the back because “summer’s almost over and I haven’t even worn it once.”

They take the subway there and Beca’s very aware of the looks Chloe’s getting, some subtle and some really, really not. She has to admit, Chloe does look pretty hot. The dress brings out her tan and her legs look amazing, from all the early workouts, and shit is Beca being just like those skeevy guys, checking out her friend?

She makes pointed eye contact with one such guy who’s sitting across from where they’re standing. She grips the pole and steps in closer to Chloe, who’s completely oblivious, and the dude sneers and finally looks away.

The train takes a corner and Beca teeters on her heels until Chloe catches her elbow, steadying her.

“You look so pretty tonight, Beca,” Chloe says, releasing Beca’s arm to run her fingers through a few strands of Beca’s hair. “Did you use the new curling iron?”

***

The bar is already packed by the time they get there and it’s clear that Beca’s coworkers have gotten a head start on the drinking. They cheer when she and Chloe walk in and quickly surround them, introducing themselves to Chloe and teasing Beca about how her roommate is real after all.

Beca’s kind of dying from all the attention, but Chloe is beaming, laughing at Beca’s coworkers and poking her side every time they make a joke at her expense.

“Okay, this is why I didn’t want you guys to meet each other,” Beca says, shouting to be heard over the music. “I knew you’d all gang up against me.”

“Aww, we just tease you because you’re so adorable when you get riled up.” Chloe pulls Beca against her for a quick squeeze and Caleb tries to cover a laugh by taking a sip of his beer.

“I dunno,” Beca says, shrugging Chloe off of her. “I think I might just have a knack for attracting people who like to torture me.”

Chloe rolls her eyes and turns to Jason, Caleb, and Alicia. “I’m gonna hit the bar and then you guys have to tell me all about what Beca is like at work. I want to know everything.”

Beca groans and looks up toward the ceiling in defeat. “In that case, I’m gonna need a shot. Or three.”

***

After a round of shots and two vodka sodas, Beca is really feeling herself. She’s also feeling this bar, her new friends, and the song that just started playing. It’s like everything is coming together -- she’s living her dream in New York City, working at a record label, living with her best friend, wearing all black at a slightly pretentious tourist-free bar.

Her life is, like, so cool right now.

 _Their_ lives are so cool right now. She needs to make sure Chloe knows this.

She touches Chloe’s forearm where it’s resting on the bar to get her attention, but Chloe’s enraptured by a story Alicia is telling about the time their boss nearly caught Beca doing an impression of him behind his back. Chloe’s laughing hard at Alicia’s impression of Beca’s impression, but she turns her arm over and takes Beca’s hand in acknowledgement of her touch.

Jason elbows Caleb and they share a knowing look. Beca rolls her eyes out of habit, but she actually kinda likes it. She knows they’re just being dumb, but it’s nice to feel like people think she and Chloe might really be together. That Chloe would want to be with her.

So she keeps holding Chloe’s hand. Even when more of Jason’s friends arrive and they have to move down the bar to make room, their hands stay linked, dangling in the space between them. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but it feels really, really good.

Beca brushes her thumb over Chloe’s knuckles, and that’s what finally gets her attention. Chloe shifts toward her, turning her back on the rest of the birthday crowd. She smiles at Beca, eyebrows lifting like she’s a little surprised.

“Hey you,” she says, smoothing her thumb over Beca’s wrist. (Beca does her very best to pretend not to notice.) “You drunk?”

“I’d categorize it more as a pleasant buzz. You?”

“Yeah, me too. I’m having so much fun. I love your coworkers, Bec.”

“Eh, they’re alright I guess.”

“Oh my god. You’re ridiculous.”

“Whatever Beale, you love it.”

Chloe smiles and tugs Beca in closer. “I do, actually.”

“Ew no, you can’t be Sappy Drunk Chloe tonight,” Beca whines, but definitely not pulling away. “Not in front of my coworkers. They already think we’re married.”

“They do?!” Chloe asks, jaw falling open a little too gleefully for Beca’s liking. “Why do they think that?”

“I dunno, probably because I talk about you all the time. I mean, since you’re like the only person I know in this whole damn city.”

“Awww, Beca!” Chloe pouts, batting her lashes, and Beca’s breath catches in her chest. She’s kinda wading into dangerous territory here.

“Ugh, I shouldn’t have told you that.”

“No, I love it. I talk about you all the time too, if that makes you feel better.”

“What, to a bunch of dogs?”

“And people!”

“Oh my god, Chlo. You’re the worst.”

Chloe just laughs and signals the bartender for another drink.

“Please, you love it.”

***

Beca isn’t sure how she got separated from Chloe. It might’ve been around the time Caleb ordered those god-awful flaming shots and Alicia insisted they take a coworker photo of the four of them holding the fiery glasses up way too close to their faces.

All Beca knows for sure is:


1\. She’s crossed over from pleasantly tipsy into pleasantly drunk.
2\. Chloe is no longer holding her hand, or even within a six foot radius.


She leans back against the bar and scans the room, nursing the glass of water Chloe had handed her before they got separated. Beca smiles as she bites on the straw, thinking about how Chloe always makes sure she stays hydrated on nights out.

When she finally spots Chloe, standing over by the row of booths, it takes her a minute to fully grasp the situation. Ultimately, it boils down to this: Chloe’s talking with a random guy.

A very tall and handsome random guy, with the type of cut jaw that Chloe loves. And it seems to be doing the trick tonight, because he’s making Chloe laugh and touching her elbow and Beca kind of wants to gag.

She sets her glass down and starts off in Chloe’s direction when Caleb moves in front of her.

“Going to get your girl?” he asks, looking far too smug.

“I just don’t want her to get roofied, alright?” Beca says, pushing him out of her way.

“Sure okay, let’s go with that. So chivalrous, Beca.”

“Go drink another fire hazard, Caleb.”

***

Chloe doesn’t notice Beca until she’s practically standing right in front of her, but as soon as she does she shouts her name and throws her arms around Beca’s neck, like she hasn’t seen her all night.

“Hey,” Beca says, voice muffled by Chloe’s hair. She loops her arms around her waist and hugs her for a few beats longer than she usually would, just for Elbow-Toucher’s sake.

Once they step back, Beca looks the guy up and down. “Who’s this tall drink of… some type of liquid?” She cringes at herself, but Chloe doesn't seem to notice.

“This is Ben! He likes animals too.”

“Oh no way,” Beca says in the flattest voice she can muster. “Gosh, what are the odds.”

“Ben, this is Beca.” Chloe beams and links her arm through Beca’s. “My best friend, former co-captain, and current roommate.”

Ben’s brow furrows in confusion, which Beca can only assume is a regular look of his. “Your co-what?”

“Hey Chlo,” Beca interrupts. “Wanna get out of here?”

And she knows she’s being a dick, but she takes Chloe’s hand. (Whether to apologize or tempt her, she’s not sure.)

“Um, yeah.” Chloe smiles. “Let’s go.”

***

As soon as they’re out on the sidewalk Beca’s spirits are high once again. Chloe seems right there with her, giggling as they stumble down the street hand in hand.

They’re halfway to the subway station when Beca pulls Chloe to a stop. “Let’s just take a cab, dude.”

“Really? Will that cost a lot, though?”

“Maybe, but it’s nearly 4 o’clock -- the N train is probably filled with creeps.”

“Well, we haven’t taken a cab since we moved here… I think it’s time to rectify that.”

“Yes, that’s the spirit! Do you want to do the honors?”

Beca can’t help but giggle as Chloe raises her chin, steps up to the curb, and holds out her arm.

***

In the end, catching a cab at 4 a.m. in a neighborhood with a lot of bars isn’t as easy as Beca thought. Or maybe they just haven’t learned the ropes yet. Eventually they walk down to the more-bustling East 86th street and hail a taxi after just a few minutes.

Chloe lets out a loud “woooo!” when it pulls over and Beca has to clamp her hand over her mouth to get her to stop. They’re still giggling as they fall into the back seat, and the driver has to prompt them to tell him their address.

Once the car starts moving, Chloe falls back against the seat and closes her eyes, still laughing. She’d only scooted into the cab just enough to let Beca in, leaving Beca squished between Chloe and the door. Not that she exactly minds.

“Beca,” Chloe says, opening her eyes and grabbing at her hands. “Beca, Beca.”

“What? What what?”

They can’t seem to stop laughing. Chloe’s eyeliner is smudged and her lipstick has faded and it’s unfair, really, how she still looks fucking stunning.

“I’m sooo cold,” Chloe whines, shivering for emphasis.

“Seriously? It’s August, how are you cold?”

“We were standing outside for so long. And the temperature’s dropped!”

“Oh my god, dude, it’s like 70 degrees out.”

“No.” Chloe shakes her head adamantly. “It’s in the 60s. I can tell.”

“Oh yeah? Are you a meteor… meterol… metereorol… What the fuck, why can’t I say that word right now?”

Chloe dissolves into even more giggles. She wraps her arms around Beca’s waist and presses her face into the crook of her neck.

“Warm me up!”

Beca swallows at the feeling of Chloe’s lips on her skin, suddenly wishing she was a little less drunk right now.

“Maybe if you, ya know, wore an actual complete dress you wouldn’t be so cold right now,” she says, a last-ditch effort to stick to the safety of sarcasm.

“Beca! Warm me up!”

“What does that mean?!”

“Hug me back!”

“Jesus, okay fine!”

She closes her arms around Chloe, who sighs at the contact, sinking even further into Beca. Part of Beca feels like she should resist this, like she’s giving too much away about what she feels before she’s even worked out what that is herself. But the other part -- the one that’s never been able to say no to Chloe Beale -- wins out.

So she hugs her back and closes her eyes, letting herself fully be in the moment; enjoying the feeling of Chloe pressed into her, the warm puffs of breath skating across her collarbone.

Chloe mutters something against Beca’s neck, and Beca lets herself enjoy that too, even as goosebumps rise on her arms.

“I have no idea what you just said, Chlo.”

Chloe shifts her head, resting her temple on Beca’s shoulder. “I said, how is my dress not a complete dress?”

“Oh.” Beca drags one of her hands down from Chloe’s shoulder until she reaches the cutout on her lower back. “Because of this,” she says, tracing her finger along the edge. “You have some fabric missing, Beale.”

“Mm, your hand is warm.”

“Yeah?” Beca takes a deep breath and presses her palm to Chloe’s back, covering most of the cutout. “This better?”

“Mmhm.”

Chloe sounds sleepy now and Beca notices they’re crossing the bridge back into Queens. She’s about to tell Chloe that they’re almost home, that she just needs to stay awake a little longer, when Chloe’s fingers slip beneath the fabric of Beca’s top, smoothing across her lower back.

Beca holds her breath, heat rising along the column of her neck and in the pit of her stomach. Thankfully, Chloe’s hands soon come to a stop and rest there just above the waistband of Beca’s jeans.

And they just stay there like that, half tangled up and breathing quietly, fingers pressed against smooth skin. And it’s innocent, Beca thinks. Or it should be, at least.

Someone should probably tell her heart, though.

***

When the cab finally pulls up to their building, Chloe sighs and brushes her lips against the side of Beca’s neck before they drag themselves out of the car.

***

Beca wakes up with a raging hangover and a jolt of embarrassment as she remembers last night.

She was so rude to that stupid jaw guy and pulled Chloe out of the bar like a cave woman. Did they even say goodbye to her coworkers? Fuck, and all the touching. Oh god, oh god.

She turns onto her stomach, presses her face into her pillow, and groans.

***

If Chloe has any regrets about last night she doesn’t let on, which somehow makes Beca feel even worse.

When Beca finally trudges into the kitchen Chloe’s waiting for her at the table with Tylenol, a tall glass of water, and a fresh pot of coffee. She’s still in her pajamas but her face looks clean and fresh. Beca squints at her, wordlessly swallowing the pill and chugging the water in one go.

“Why do you look so chipper?” she asks, taking a seat next to Chloe.

“Do I? I don’t feel chipper, that’s for sure.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I’ve just been up longer.” Chloe smiles. “You sleep okay?”

Beca just grumbles and gets up to pour herself a cup of coffee. Chloe giggles, reminding Beca of all the giggling (and flirting and touching) from last night, and Beca grips the edge of the counter.

“Well have your coffee, then shower and get dressed. I’ve found just the thing for us.”

Beca frowns into her mug. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“Have you heard of bottomless mimosas?”

***

The cab incident was just a fluke, Beca decides, because everything goes back to normal between her and Chloe.

Sometimes she wonders what Chloe was thinking that night, but she tries not to dwell on it. Chloe is overly affectionate with everyone. That’s her thing. She was probably just drunk and cold and that’s that.

Sometimes Beca wonders what _she_ was feeling that night. But she’ll deal with that later. There’s too much going on right now.

***

Beca’s coworkers are surprisingly cool about what, if anything, they saw at Jason’s birthday. If they even remember, which they probably don’t -- apparently they went to do some late-night karaoke in Korea Town and stayed up drinking saki until sunrise.

(Beca feels a bit guilty that she made Chloe leave early -- she would’ve loved that. She gets the name of the karaoke bar so she can take her there sometime.)

By the end of the summer Beca’s really tight with her coworkers. She goes out with them more after work, and sometimes Chloe takes the train out to join them. Chloe’s made some work friends too -- real, human ones -- and they’re a bit earthy-crunchy, but Chloe likes them, and, therefore, so does Beca.

Beca thinks it’s nice that they’re each starting to form their own little circles here, while still coming back together at the end of the day.

They’re getting to know people in their neighborhood, too. The guys across the hall -- the ones Beca saw sneaking up onto the roof -- have even invited them for a party up there in a couple weeks.

(Chloe says it’s because the one named Cody has a thing for Beca, but Beca just scoffs.)

***

Beca didn’t mean to stay out this late. She and her coworkers had taken this new girl out for drinks, and time just got away from them.

When Beca gets home she tiptoes into the apartment and goes straight to the bathroom to do her nighttime routine before heading to her room. That way she doesn’t have to take multiple trips back and forth, and risk waking Chloe.

She’s kinda buzzed, but she does her best to open Chloe’s door as softly as she can before closing it behind her. It’s dark in the room, but she knows her way by now. She slowly walks toward her bedroom door as her eyes adjust to the dim light.

The sheets rustle on Chloe’s bed and Beca swears under her breath, ready to apologize to Chloe for waking her. But when she looks in her direction she sees the outline of a figure that is definitely _not_ Chloe.

Beca freezes, heart hammering in her chest, as she watches the person roll over and lie back down. It’s then that her eyes adjust enough to make out Chloe’s sleeping form, lying on her stomach with the sheets draped across her hips, her bare back just visible in the glow from the streetlights.

There’s a sudden pang in Beca’s chest, and the force of it spurs her into action. She manages to make it into her own bedroom without making a sound.

Once she’s safely in her room she starts pacing, running her fingers through her hair. They need a system, she thinks. Like a sock on the doorknob or a casual text saying, ‘heyy I’m gonna have sex with someone in my room tonight just FYI.’

Beca doesn’t know why she’s surprised. If anything, she should be surprised that this hasn’t happened before. They’ve lived here for months now -- surely Chloe’s slept with people. Everyone loves Chloe and Chloe loves sex. Beca knows this.

So why is there a nagging ache in her chest, right beneath her sternum?

***

Beca sleeps poorly and wakes up early the next morning, but she stays in bed for a long while. She waits until she hears muffled voices, doors opening and closing, and the shower running before she finally ventures out.

Chloe greets her happily when she comes out of the bathroom and finds Beca at the kitchen table, sipping her second cup of coffee.

“I missed you last night,” she says. “Hope I didn’t wake you when I got in -- stayed out longer than expected.”

Beca forces a smile. That’s one good thing, at least -- that Chloe assumed Beca was already asleep in bed when she and her… guest… got home.

“All good,” Beca says. "Slept like a log.”

“Awes,” Chloe says, fidgeting with the corner of her towel. “Okay, I’m gonna go get dressed and then I think we should do something fun together. Maybe go to that beer garden Cody and them were telling us about. But just us.” She winks. “Does that sound good?”

“Yeah. That sounds great, Chlo. I’ll get ready.”

Chloe eyes Beca for a moment, like can’t quite read her, before she grins and walks into her room.

Beca watches her go as a sinking realization settles over her.

It’s almost like... she has a crush... on Chloe.

But that can’t be it. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the bit of angst at the end. it will be kept to a minimum, I swear.
> 
> fav scene? thoughts? feelings?? I wanna hear 'em!
> 
> also hmu at [cheapthrillsbeca on tumblr](https://cheapthrillsbeca.tumblr.com/).


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe have a talk in the park, stand too close to each other in their tiny bathroom, and go to a party on their roof. Oh, and Beca walks through Chloe's room at 3:21 a.m. and she isn't expecting what happens...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii happy new year!
> 
> this chapter is the longest yet because I care about you guys and didn't want to end it on an angsty cliff hanger. (so yes, there's some sweet, sweet angst, but it's mostly resolved by the end. you'll walk away from this feeling good, I promise.)
> 
> cannot wait to hear what you think about this one! pls share your thoughts in the comments and/or hmu at [cheapthrillsbeca on tumblr](https://cheapthrillsbeca.tumblr.com).

Truth be told, Beca hadn’t given much thought to what it would be like to live in New York City.

She’d had her sights set on LA for so long that by the time her path took a left turn -- after she impressed her boss with her and Emily’s collab and he recommended her for the position at Residual Heat East -- she didn’t have much space to mull it over. Everything had happened so quickly.

Most of what she knew about New York came from TV shows -- Sex and the City and Gossip Girl and a handful of others that Chloe was constantly rewatching back in college. But now that Beca’s lived here for a few months, she’s realizing New York isn’t really like that.

Well maybe it is for a certain set of people, but not for her.

Beca’s New York is bright and loud and colorful. It’s full of fast walkers and booming Spanish music and clothes lines stretched across fire escapes.

It’s piping-hot bagels and careening bike messengers and bodegas that sell everything you could ever need, from Takis to shower curtains.

It’s alarmingly confident children and incredibly aggressive pigeons and pesky express trains (which she’s still trying to figure out).

It’s eating breakfast sandwiches in a park by the East River with Chloe on Saturday mornings. It’s sitting next to Chloe on the W train on the way into Manhattan, sharing a pair of earbuds as they listen to Beca’s latest mix. It’s bottomless mimosas at Chloe’s favorite Greek restaurant, luxuriating at a table on the back patio on lazy Sunday afternoons.

And Beca doesn’t know what it really would’ve been like to live in LA, but she’s pretty sure this is better.

***

Beca’s learning that a fair amount of people who live in New York aren’t originally from here, either. In fact, the guys across the hall are among the first “real” New Yorkers she’s gotten to know. Cody and Tyrone grew up on Staten Island, which is one of the five boroughs, as they repeatedly and excessively remind her.

They’re a bit cocky and she can’t help but laugh every time they say “coffee” or “water” (man, those accents) but they’ve started to grow on her. Chloe likes them too. Every once in a while she’ll convince Beca to go watch the boys play pickup basketball in the park, though they usually forgo paying attention in favor of chatting with each other and getting over-caffeinated on cold brews.

“I still think Cody likes you,” Chloe tells her one day when they’re sitting on their bench by the court, soaking up the early autumn sun. “See?” She swats Beca’s arm. “He keeps looking over here.”

Beca holds up a hand to shield her eyes, glancing over at the game. “I don’t see anything.”

“You just missed it. Keep watching, you’ll see.”

She keeps watching, reluctantly, and Chloe’s right -- he does look over at them from time to time, especially after he’s made a shot or does something else that’s supposed to be impressive (probably -- Beca wouldn’t know).

“Meh,” Beca says, picking up her coffee and turning back to Chloe. “Could mean anything. Hey, maybe he likes _you_.”

“It’s definitely you, Becs.” Chloe huffs. “He’s always flirting with you.”

“Is he now?”

Chloe slides her sunglasses down her nose and eyes Beca. “Okay, I know you’re not this oblivious.”

“Maybe I’m just not interested.”

“No?”

Beca shrugs. She’s not sure where this conversation is going, but there’s a weird undercurrent to it. Could Chloe like Cody? Or is Chloe already dating someone and wants Beca to get a boyfriend too so she’s not alone when Chloe ditches her?

Okay that last one is unfair, but it still makes Beca frown as she chews on the end of her straw.

Chloe opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but promptly shuts it. She presses her lips together, working her jaw back and forth, and Beca sighs inwardly. She knows that look.

“Oh, come on. Out with it.”

“I just didn’t know if…” Chloe trails off for a moment before squaring her shoulders. “Is it because of Jesse?”

Beca grimaces. “Ew, no.”

“You and him… You’re not still talking?”

“No! I mean we text sometimes, but we’re not _talking_ talking.”

“Are you, like, still getting over him?”

“What?!”

“Sorry, is that a crazy question? You were together for four years, Beca. It would make sense if you were still working through that.”

“Oh my god, I’m not. Jesse and I… it had run its course, okay? I’m over it. Really.”

“Okay. Good. That’s good.”

Beca grumbles to herself and crosses her arms, closing her eyes and tilting her face up toward the sun. But she can still feel Chloe’s gaze on her and she steels herself, knowing the conversation isn’t over.

“I mean, you can’t blame me for asking,” Chloe says, with that tone in her voice that always raises Beca’s hackles. “You can try to brush it off all you want, but that kind of a break up is a big deal, Beca. And you never talk to me about it.”

Beca chews her bottom lip and takes a long breath. “That’s because there’s _nothing_ to talk about.”

She doesn’t know why she’s being like this. It’s a reasonable expectation, to want your friend to talk to you about her major life event. But Beca’s always been weird about traditional “girl talk,” and even four years of being in the Bellas hasn’t changed that.

And, fine. Maybe part of her is worried if she talks to Chloe about Jesse, it’ll lead to… other conversations. Namely one that she isn’t ready to have yet. Or like, what if Chloe will start talking to her about that dude who Beca saw in her room that night (which she still hasn’t mentioned, by the way) or any of the other people she’s probably seeing. Beca definitely wants to avoid that.

Chloe sighs. “Beca…”

She’s using her soft, gentle voice now, and Beca’s always been a sucker for that. Beca rubs her hand across her brow before opening her eyes to meet Chloe’s.

“Look, I’m sorry. I guess to me, all that stuff with Jesse is just in the past. I’m not hung up on him or anything, I promise.”

Chloe nods, but her jaw is still tight and Beca knows she’s not convinced.

“We’ve just been having so much fun since we moved here, Chlo, and I didn’t want to dredge up what feels like ancient history. It’s not that I don’t want to talk to you about stuff.” Beca smiles and pokes at Chloe’s arm. “I’d say aside from this, I talk to you about all of the stuff.”

“That’s true,” Chloe says, a small smile spreading across her face. “You did tell me about that sex dream you had about your boss.”

Beca stiffens and grabs Chloe’s wrist. “And you promised to never mention it again!”

Chloe throws her head back to laugh, and Beca can’t help but grin back, feeling a release of the tension that’d been building inside her for the last few minutes.

“I know, I’m sorry I’m sorry,” Chloe says, still laughing.

“No, you’re not.”

Chloe grins. “Yeah, I’m kinda not.”

She looks down at her arm, where Beca’s still holding onto her wrist, and gently eases herself free. Beca’s about to mutter an apology for holding onto her for so long when Chloe laces their fingers together.

“I just… I want you to know you can talk to me about anything.”

“I know, Chlo.”

“And you don’t have to tell me _everything_ , I don’t expect that. But if there ever is anything you want to talk about, I’m here. Okay?”

“Okay.” Beca twists her lips to the side, trying in vain to fight back a smile. “And me too. I’m here for you too.”

Chloe smiles at her and squeezes her hand, holding eye contact for a beat before turning back to the basketball game. Beca watches her, feeling slightly unmoored from the conversation. She’s not sure what the takeaway is supposed to be, but she has a feeling it isn’t really about Jesse.

Eventually Beca shifts her attention back to the court, though it’s not long before her eyes lose focus as she gets lost in thought. For some reason her mind keeps going back to that faux-crush she diagnosed herself with that night a few weeks ago. She’s tempted to dig her phone out of her pocket to distract herself, but that would mean letting go of Chloe’s hand, so she lets it be.

She waits for it to feel weird, holding hands with Chloe in broad daylight while completely sober, but the weirdness doesn’t come.

***

It’s starting to get colder.

Beca doesn’t mind -- she’s always been more of an indoor kid. But Chloe is beside herself, panicked and grief-stricken at the looming threat of fall turning into winter.

“It’s not even Thanksgiving, Chlo -- it’s too early to freak out about this,” Beca tells her. “Besides, aren’t you even a little excited about winter in New York? You _have_ seen Home Alone 2, right? We can window shop in that fancy toy store and go sledding in Central Park and maybe find that pigeon lady.”

While Chloe remains unconvinced, Beca really is looking forward to her first winter in the Northeast. It warms her cold, black heart when she thinks of Chloe bundled up in a winter coat during the first snow. Maybe they can go down to the park and try to build a snowman. She’ll have to learn how to make hot chocolate, she thinks. For post-snowman building.

The only downside -- the one she tries not to think about, let alone talk about -- is that time seems to be passing so quickly. _Too_ quickly. She loves the life she and Chloe are building here, in this weird little apartment, but she can’t ignore the fact that it came with an expiration date.

She secretly hopes Amy’s street performance act isn’t ready anytime soon.

***

“I don’t see why we have to get all slutty,” Beca says when Chloe squeezes into the bathroom with her. “It’s just a roof party. Have you seen the roof? It’s just tarmac surrounded by a 4-foot-high brick wall. Nothing fancy.”

Chloe grabs onto Beca’s hips as she slips behind her to get to the other side of the vanity. She’s in the tiniest cut-off shorts Beca has ever seen, paired with a flowy white sleeveless top that reveals an inch or two of her toned stomach whenever she moves a certain way (not that Beca is looking).

“Because getting slutty is fun, duh.” Chloe beams at Beca’s reflection in the mirror. “And this might be the last semi-warm night of the year. We’ve gotta make the most of it.”

“And ‘making the most of it’ means ‘getting slutty’ using what logic?”

“Mmm, I dunno, the logic that says it’s fun?” Chloe stands next to Beca in front of the mirror, rummaging through her makeup bag. “And that slutty Beca looks sexy.”

Beca nearly chokes, making a strangled sound that she does her best to pass off as a laugh. “Um, what?”

Chloe has the audacity to wink at her in the mirror, grinning as Beca glares.

“You might want to check your eyeliner, Bec.”

Beca looks back at her reflection to find that her subtle winged tip has flown up near her eyebrow.

“Ugh, Chloe! You distracted me.”

“Me?” Chloe says, pressing her hand to her chest and smiling innocently.

Beca’s glare deepens. “Don’t you have your own mirror you can use?”

“So dramatic, Beca.” Chloe tuts at her and goes back to rummaging in her makeup bag. “Here, turn around.”

“What? Why?”

Chloe’s hands are back on her hips, pushing with one hand and pulling with the other until Beca gives in and shuffles around so that her back is to the mirror. Ignoring Beca’s grumbled complaints about how she’s always getting manhandled, Chloe steps in front of her, just fitting in the space between Beca and the wall.

And Beca has pretty decent spacial skills -- she’s not athletic but she could catch a ball, if she had to, and she can parallel park like nobody’s business. But, despite all that, she’s still not prepared for how _close_ Chloe suddenly is. Her face is right there, mere inches from hers, and their knees knock together when Chloe reaches behind Beca to put her makeup bag down. And, god, when did it get so hot in here?

“I’ll fix you,” Chloe says, and all Beca can do is try to keep her breathing even as she watches her soak a Q-tip with makeup remover. “Close your eyes.”

Now that’s an order Beca can get behind. She closes her eyes and exhales slowly, trying to get her pulse under control. It’s no use, though, because soon Chloe’s fingers are gliding along Beca’s jaw before cupping her chin and gently angling her face to the side.

Beca swallows thickly, gripping the countertop behind her as she feels Chloe brush the Q-tip back and forth above her eye.

“There,” Chloe says after a few passes. “All better.”

“Oh good,” Beca manages, clearing her throat.

“Want me to finish?”

“What?”

Beca opens her eyes, which is a huge mistake, because Chloe’s even closer than before. She must look like a deer in headlights because Chloe laughs, and that’s even worse because Beca gets a whiff of that grape gum she’s always chewing.

Chloe presses in closer, one knee slipping between Beca’s legs, and Beca wants to scream because, Jesus Christ, she has to be doing this on purpose. But all she can do is stand there as she feels Chloe’s fingers skate down her arm until they reach the hand that is holding the long-forgotten eyeliner.

“Here,” Chloe says, tugging on the pencil until Beca releases it from her death grip. “Let me.”

“Okay yeah.” Beca glances up toward the ceiling, proud of herself for forming words. “Yeah, thanks.”

Chloe takes Beca’s chin in her hand again, and Beca _just_ catches herself before she lets her eyes fall to Chloe’s lips. (Okay, what the _fuck_?)

“Close again.”

“Oh, yep.”

Beca closes her eyes and promises herself that she won’t open them again until she’s at least 10 feet away from Chloe Beale. She must be a witch or something, making Beca lose her sense like this.

Distract yourself, Beca thinks. Like how teenage guys do in movies. Think of baseball players or some shit. Ugh, Beca doesn’t know any baseball players. Okay, think of--

But it’s all for naught, because Chloe gently tilts Beca’s face downward and somehow crowds in even closer, her knee slipping further between Beca’s thighs. Beca flushes, feeling the heat and redness creeping up from her chest to her neck. She barely has time to process that embarrassing development before Chloe begins to glide the pencil along the edge of her eyelid, puffing soft breaths against Beca’s cheek.

“Perfect,” Chloe says after a minute. Her voice sounds farther away, like she’s leaning back to admire her work. “Now let’s see if I can get the other to match on the first try.”

Beca forces out a laugh. “I have faith in you, Chlo.”

Inwardly, of course, she’s dying, praying to every higher power she can think of that Chloe gets it on the first try, because she’s not sure how much more of this she can take.

Chloe angles Beca’s head the other way and Beca distantly wonders if it’s normal to be this willing and pliable under your friend’s touches. But she’ll have to deal with that later. For now, she gives up on trying to figure out what her equivalent of baseball players is and just focuses on her breathing -- no easy feat, what with Chloe’s breaths still warming Beca’s skin.

It feels like a lifetime before Chloe’s announcing that she’s finished, finally stepping back from Beca, who feels like she’s left flustered and swaying against the vanity countertop.

“Some of my best work,” Chloe says proudly. “Take a look.”

Beca breaks her earlier promise to herself and opens her eyes, making sure to keep her gaze firmly on the floor until she turns around. She’s a little afraid of what she’ll be faced with when she looks in the mirror -- if she looks like how she feels she’ll be beet red and bewildered -- but she’s pleasantly surprised to see she appears mostly put together.

Sure, her cheeks are pink and her pupils are big and dark, but she could definitely pass for someone who didn’t just have a minor heart attack due to the proximity of their best friend.

“So?” Chloe says, startling her. “Do I meet the Beca Mitchell standard? I know you’re very particular.”

Beca glances at her eyelids before she finds Chloe in the reflection. She’s smiling at her hopefully with cheeks almost as pink as Beca’s. Maybe it actually is just really hot in here.

“Great job,” she says, letting out a slow breath. “Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

***

As soon as she manages to get out of the bathroom Beca starts to pregame. She doesn’t know why she didn’t think of that earlier. (Though maybe it’s for the best.)

She digs two cans of hard seltzer out of the fridge and drops one on the bathroom counter for Chloe before quickly retreating to her room. After several long gulps to steady herself, she takes a deep breath, puts on some music, and surveys her closet.

It doesn’t take her long to land on a pink sundress (one Chloe said she looked hot in and should, therefore, pass for slutty) paired with wedge booties and a denim jacket. She goes on autopilot as she dresses, finishing the seltzer and trying to assess what the fuck just happened back there.

Back in August when she diagnosed herself with crush-like feelings for Chloe, she didn’t give it much thought. Friend crushes are definitely a thing. God knows that each of the Bellas would talk at length about their so-called “girl crushes,” from famous actresses to girls on campus.

And Beca thought that’s all this was -- that she and Chloe were just really vibing since they started living together. They’ve gotten so close over these past few months -- even closer than before, which was already pretty close -- so Beca thought it was natural to just crave her friend’s affection.

She’d never really considered what the difference was between a friend crush and a _crush_ crush, but she wonders if really wanting to look at your friend’s lips while she did your makeup might be it.

***

Beca is relieved to see that the boys’ roof party is on the tame side. When she and Chloe climb the back stairs and push open the door that says “NO ENTRY” in three languages, they find about 20 people scattered across the roof, some sitting on beach chairs and blankets, some standing around Tyrone’s makeshift bar on the boarded up chimney.

They’ve barely taken three steps toward the bar when they spot Cody making a bee-line for them.

Chloe elbows Beca in the ribs. “Told you.”

“Not interested,” Beca hisses back.

***

And she’s not interested, really.

But she’d finished a second spiked seltzer before they came up here and the guys had stocked the cooler with the same brand, and it’s just so easy to keep knocking them back. Thus, Beca is on the drunk side of tipsy and she’s learned from experience it’s best to keep her distance from Chloe when she gets like that. And she only knows two other people on this roof and Cody is one of them.

So she sticks by him.

She’s not interested, for real, but he’s funny and cute and he gets her dark humor. Plus, she only has to complain about the music twice before he lets her connect her phone to the speakers.

She chooses a playlist that should be a crowd pleaser -- a mix of hip hop, indie, and top 40, with the occasional Beca Mitchell original -- and when her first mix comes on Cody looks really impressed.

No like really, he’s not for her. But Chloe’s on the other side of the roof, in a cluster with Tyrone and a few other people. She’s sharing a folding chair with this really hot girl who cracks up at anything Chloe says, and they’re both in cutoff jean shorts and Beca doesn’t like that their bare thighs are touching. (Not that she’s looking.)

So as the night wears on and Cody moves closer, she lets him.

***

Somewhere along the way, this kinda tame party becomes more of a rager.

Beca and Cody have to weave through groups of people on their way to join Chloe and Tyrone, and Beca grips Cody’s elbow so she doesn’t lose him. Once they get there, she forgets that she’s holding onto him as Tyrone introduces her to his friends. It’s not until she catches Chloe staring that she realizes and drops his arm.

Hot Girl has moved to sprawl out on a nearby blanket, so Beca takes her former spot, squeezing in next to Chloe on the small chair. Chloe smiles at her but there’s a little crease between her brows, and Beca wonders who’s upset her.

“Hey,” she says. She slips an arm around Chloe’s waist, more to keep herself from falling off the chair than anything else. (Okay, even she isn’t drunk enough to buy that.) “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Chloe nods, looking down. “I’m good.”

“Chloe, come on.” Beca leans in closer and touches her knee. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m good, Beca. Really,” Chloe says, smiling tightly and rolling her eyes. “I just need another drink.”

She gets up and heads to the bar before Beca can ask anything more.

***

Whatever funk Chloe was in seems to have lifted by the time she gets back with a fresh drink. Beca makes room for her on the chair and Chloe smiles at her as she sits down. She wraps her arm around Beca this time.

Beca leans into Chloe’s side and sips her drink, still confused about what happened a few minutes ago. Whatever it is, Chloe doesn’t seem to want to talk about it. Or at least not here.

“Hey Chlo, do you want to--”

“Chlooooeeee!” Tyrone shouts, drowning Beca out. He’s sitting by Hot Girl and they’re both smirking conspiratorially. “Tabitha and I have a question for you.”

Beca can’t help but snort into her drink -- she would’ve thought Hot Girl would’ve been named Giselle or something. Guess you can’t tell what babies will grow up to be hot, though. (Wow, she’s really drunk.)

“Oh yeah?” Chloe asks, raising an eyebrow. “I’m not sure if I want to hear it. I think Tabs is a bad influence on you, Ty.”

Now Beca’s frowning into her drink. She was away from Chloe for like one hour and these three already have a rapport and nicknames? Not cool.

“Hey, I’m not taking the blame for this one,” Tabitha says. “This is 100% him. Well, at least 80%.”

“Alright.” Chloe sits up straighter in the chair. “In that case, I’m all ears.”

“Beca, you listen up too,” Tyrone says.

Beca looks up from her drink, eyes wide. “Me?”

“Come on, man,” Cody says, from somewhere to the right (Beca had kinda forgotten about him). “Leave them alone.”

“It’s cool, it’s cool,” Tyrone tells him. “It’s just a friendly question.”

“Okay well now I’m getting nervous,” Beca says, eyes darting between Tabitha and the guys. She glances at Chloe but she just shrugs, seemingly unconcerned.

“Enough with the build up,” Chloe says. “What’s your question, Ty?”

“I just wanted to know if you two,” he starts, gesturing between Chloe and Beca, “are like _together_ together.”

Beca blanches, wondering if this is what a stroke feels like. But Chloe just laughs.

“Nope,” she says cheerily, sliding her arm from Beca’s waist to wrap around her shoulders. “We’re just good friends. Best friends. Right, Bec?”

“Uh-huh,” Beca replies, taking a swig of her drink. “The best. Of friends. That’s what we are.”

Beca likes Tyrone a lot. He’s friendly and bubbly -- almost like a male Chloe -- and he helped Beca figure out how to turn the volume down on their buzzer, and she’ll be forever grateful for that. But here, in this moment, she wants to curse him with a lifetime of stepping in water every time he wears socks.

“Oh, come on,” he pushes. “I’ve seen you together -- you must’ve at least made out. Admit it.” 

(Or maybe a lifetime of stepping on Legos.)

Chloe removes her arm from Beca and shifts in their seat. Beca downs the rest of her drink and fiddles with the tab of the can, working it back and forth as she desperately tries not to think about kissing Chloe.

“Hah, I wish,” Chloe says. Beca’s head snaps toward her, but Chloe’s just smiling as she addresses Ty. “But no, we haven’t. Sorry to disappoint.”

And Beca knows it is not humanly possible to spontaneously combust at will, because she’s been silently begging the universe to swallow her up for a full minute and yet she’s still sitting here, in the middle of this nightmare conversation.

“You haven’t,” Cody says, holding a hand up to Tabitha, who looks like she’s ready to jump in with a follow-up. “We just think you guys are really cute together, that’s all.”

“Aww, thanks,” Chloe says. She places a hand on Beca’s thigh and Beca just swallows as the tab finally snaps off. “I think so, too.”

***

Beca gets separated from Chloe again.

She’s not sure how this keeps happening.

This time it’s Chloe who finds Beca over in the corner that she wound up in with Cody. At some point he’d put his arm around her and she’s too lazy (and drunk and, frankly, chilly) to shake him off.

“Hey,” Chloe says as she approaches, addressing Cody’s arm more than Beca. She stops a few feet away from them, fidgeting with a ring on her finger. “Just wanted to let you know I’m calling it a night.”

“Oh, okay.” Beca steps forward, finally shrugging Cody off of her. “I’ll come with.”

“It’s alright Bec, you don’t have to.”

“What? I want to. It’s late, I’m sleepy.”

Chloe nods, still not quite meeting Beca’s eyes. And Beca may be drunk, but she can tell something isn’t right with Chloe for the second time tonight and she needs to know what it is.

“Just give me one sec Chlo,” Beca says, turning back to Cody.

“Tonight was, like, so fun,” she tells him, taking a step back. And it’s the truth -- she did have fun with him -- but she is feeling kinda guilty. Because Chloe was right; she could tell that Cody was into her, and she just kinda went with it... even though she doesn't feel the same. “Great party, man. I’ll, uh, see you around?”

“Oh uh, yeah. Okay cool.”

She gives him an incredibly awkward high five before turning away, expecting to see Chloe shaking her head and laughing at her.

But Chloe’s gone.

***

The apartment is dark when Beca lets herself in. She feels a bit unsteady. She stands there in the darkness, listening to the bass of the music coming from the roof and wondering if she got it wrong -- maybe Chloe’s still up there.

Then she sees the sliver of light seeping through the crack at the bottom of Chloe’s bedroom door.

She pauses in front of the door for a full minute before she musters the courage to knock. She has no idea what’s going on but she feels skittish and on edge, her stomach tied in knots.

“Chloe?”

At first there’s no response, and Beca’s about to knock again when she hears Chloe’s quiet voice telling her to come in.

Beca opens the door slowly and lingers there in the doorway. Chloe watches her from where she’s sitting on her bed, leaning back against the headboard and hugging her knees to her chest. She looks both sad and angry and Beca has no idea why, but she has a sinking feeling that it’s directed at her.

“Okay, I feel like I missed something,” she says, taking another step into the room.

Chloe sets her jaw and looks away. “It’s fine, Beca. Go to bed.”

“It’s clearly not fine, dude. You look pretty upset.”

The sound Chloe makes next is too bitter to be called a laugh. “I guess I just don’t like being lied to by my best friend.”

“Um, what now?” Beca says, walking up to the foot of the bed as anger rises in her chest. “How have I lied to you?”

“Really, Beca.” Chloe swallows and looks to the side before meeting Beca’s eyes. “You know, I don’t care if you like Cody. What I do care about is you swearing up and down that you’re not interested in him when you clearly are.”

“I’m _not_ interested in him, though.”

“You’re seriously sticking with that?”

“Yes!” Beca balls her hands into fists, heart pumping fast. “Because it’s true!”

“I was there tonight, you know,” Chloe says, voice rising. “I’m not an idiot. You were flirting all night and you guys were literally hanging all over each other like five minutes ago.”

“Oh my god, that’s not what was happening at all.” Beca groans and runs her hands through her hair, turning away in frustration. She’s not sure where Chloe gets off, getting mad at her for talking to some guy. It’s not like Chloe doesn’t do that all the damn time.

Beca spins back around, realizing she has a bullet in the chamber. “And honestly, Chloe, even if I was into Cody, who are you to talk?”

“Excuse me?” Chloe climbs off of her bed and stands beside it, still and tense. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Beca watches her for a minute, a sick kind of excitement building in her gut.

“I know you had a guy in here that night a few weeks ago.”

Chloe cocks her head to the side, brows furrowed in confusion. A small part of Beca feels immensely satisfied when the realization begins to settle across Chloe’s features.

“What? H-how…” Chloe stammers. “When, um. Did you…”

“I didn’t see anything, alright?” Beca hastens to clarify. “You were both asleep. I got home after you. A lot after, apparently…”

“Oh.” Chloe nods to herself before crossing her arms. “Well I don’t see what that has to do with anything.”

“Was it the guy from Jason’s birthday?” Beca asks, ignoring her. “The guy with the jaw?”

“What? Who cares?” Chloe says, nearly yelling now. “It was just a hookup. And apparently we don’t tell each other things anymore.”

Beca throws her arms up in exasperation. How did they get here? Tonight started off so fun, and now they’re practically screaming at each other and she still can’t wrap her mind around why. She looks up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly and willing the tears out of her eyes.

“That’s not fair,” she manages to grit out after a minute.

“I don’t know,” Chloe says in a low, shaky voice. “Seems pretty accurate to me.”

They stare at each other for a moment, Beca’s eyes welling and Chloe’s bottom lip quivering, and Beca’s so fucking mad and confused and hurt.

“Okay, you know what, I’m done. I can’t do this with you right now,” she says, striding toward her door.

“Hah great, that’s great,” Chloe says to her back. “Typical Beca, walking away.”

But Beca just walks faster, rushing into her room and closing the door behind her just seconds before she dissolves into tears.

***

The next day sucks.

Beca’s eyes are swollen and she has the hangover to end all hangovers. She realizes it’s because Chloe wasn’t with her last night, reminding her to hydrate, and that makes her feel even worse.

Chloe’s gone by the time Beca gets up. The apartment is eerily quiet as Beca mopes around, making herself coffee and wondering what the hell happened (and how she can fix it).

Beca’s already in bed for the night when she hears Chloe come home. She gets out of bed, wanting to go talk to her. To apologize for yelling, at least. But she doesn’t know what to say, and she’s scared that whatever comes out of her mouth won’t be enough.

So she gets back into bed.

***

She sees Chloe the next morning during their workday routine, and they’re not exactly _not_ talking to each other, but it’s close.

They move about each other, taking turns in the bathroom and the kitchen, and it’s polite and quiet and awkward as hell.

Beca’s searching for a missing earring in the bathroom when she hears the front door click behind Chloe.

That’s what stings the most -- that she didn’t say goodbye.

***

Beca knows her coworkers can tell something is wrong.

It’s not like she’s exactly being subtle. She snaps at Caleb and Jason whenever they hang around her desk for too long and she starts eating a Cliff Bar for lunch alone in the break room. On the third day Beca declines to go for lunch with the group, Alicia stops by her desk on the way out.

“What’s going on with you?” she asks. “Your mixing software die or something?”

Beca actually laughs a little bit. “No, I’m cool. Things are just kinda weird right now, but I’m fine.”

“Weird how? Something at home? Is it Chloe?”

“No, it’s just…” Beca shrugs. “Other stuff. Life stuff. It’ll be fine.”

Alicia just nods, gently squeezing Beca’s shoulder before she leaves to meet the guys.

***

When Beca gets out of her 2 p.m. meeting she finds a Chipotle salad and a bag of her favorite chocolate-covered pretzels waiting on her desk.

***

Beca goes to lunch with them the next day.

It’s a good distraction, to talk with them about stupid stuff and not spend every single spare moment agonizing about how to fix things with Chloe. That’s all she’s done for the past three days and it’s gotten her absolutely fucking nowhere.

So she goes out to lunch and she goes out to happy hour, too, which is a good decision, she thinks, because not only is she not thinking about Chloe so much, she’s not seeing her as much either. She stays out later and later, drinking enough to ease her anxiety but not so much that she’ll risk doing something dumb when she gets home.

She makes sure to drink a bottle of water on the train back to Queens, blasting music in her earbuds and trying not to replay what she can remember of their drunken fight.

(Trying not to think about what Chloe might say if Beca asks her the real reason she was so upset that night.)

***

Beca’s been having trouble sleeping.

She’d like to say it isn’t about Chloe, but there’s no denying it at this point. It’s killing her, coexisting with Chloe as if they’re practically strangers. She really, really misses her. And it’s absurd, because she’s just on the other side of her bedroom door but she feels so far away.

These are the kinds of thoughts that lead to Beca tossing and turning until well past 3 a.m. Tonight it’s 3:21 and she’s not even close to tired. She huffs and stumbles out of bed to go get a glass of water from the kitchen, wondering if it’s too late to take a Tylenol PM.

Beca’s just stepped into Chloe’s room when she hears a noise. She grimaces and squeezes her eyes shut. If she’s walked in on another one of Chloe’s one night stands she swears to god--

There’s the noise again. It’s Chloe, murmuring to herself in her sleep.

Beca opens her eyes and looks over toward the bed to find Chloe in the middle, sleeping on her back, legs tangled in the sheets. She’s still murmuring something -- almost whining -- and Beca can’t understand what she’s saying, but her voice is raw and anguished.

The sounds of Chloe’s distress makes Beca’s heart clench beneath her ribs.

Aubrey told her about Chloe’s nightmares, once. Beca had forgotten, but the memory comes easily now. She gets sleep paralysis when she’s stressed sometimes, Aubrey had said. Chloe dreams that she’s awake but she can’t move or open her eyes, and when she tries to scream for help no sound comes out.

Beca’s climbing onto Chloe’s bed before she even realizes what she’s doing. She kneels beside her, hesitating for an instant as she watches Chloe’s face. Her features go still for a second, and Beca wonders if the worst of her dream is over. But then her face twists in fear, head lolling from side to side as she whimpers, and Beca can’t take it anymore.

“Hey,” she says as softly as she can, rubbing her hand along Chloe’s arm. “Hey Chloe. Wake up, okay?”

Chloe finches and jerks to the side, and Beca can tell she’s trying to call out in her sleep.

“Come on, Chloe.” She sits up on her knees and reaches for Chloe’s shoulder, running her hands up and down her arm as gently as she can. “Wake up. Time to wake up, now. Please, please wake up.”

All of a sudden Chloe’s eyes fly open and she gasps, staring up at Beca in horror. She’s taking quick, shallow breaths, blinking rapidly, and Beca can tell she isn’t fully awake yet. It kills her, seeing her strong, confident Chloe like this, and tears start to prick at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s okay, baby, you’re okay,” she whispers, words coming out in a rush. She sits back on her heels and takes Chloe’s hand in both of hers. “You were dreaming. It was just a dream. It’s over, okay, you’re awake now. You’re safe. Just take deep breaths, alright?”

Chloe props herself up on her elbows and glances frantically around the room, still breathing hard. The next time her gaze lands on Beca she exhales, looking instantly relieved. “Becs?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” Beca nods encouragingly, still squeezing Chloe’s hand. “You okay? That seemed really scary. Whatever you were dreaming.”

“I’m okay. I think. Shit,” Chloe says, lying back down and taking a deep breath. “It always feels so real, you know?”

“Yeah.” Beca smiles. “I mean, I can imagine.”

Chloe smiles back and Beca gets that happy, nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. But then Chloe’s eyes fall to her hand -- the one still clutched between both of Beca’s -- and it’s like the memory of their standoff hits them both at once.

“Oh, um.” Beca clears her throat and drops Chloe’s hand. “I was just going to get water actually. But I heard you and I couldn’t just let you…”

“Yeah, no, of course,” Chloe says. Beca thinks she’s nodding, but she can’t bring herself to look at her. “Thanks for waking me.”

“Yep, no problem.”

Beca turns and slides her legs over the side of the bed, ready to climb down and retreat to the kitchen (and deal with the renewed pang in her heart). But before she can, she feels Chloe’s fingers close around her wrist.

“Beca?” she whispers in this tiny voice Beca can barely hear.

Beca stills, unable to bring herself to turn back around. “Yeah?”

“Stay?” Chloe slides her fingers from Beca’s wrist to cover her hand, warm and comforting. “Will you stay? Please?”

Beca swallows and looks back at Chloe. She’s ridiculously beautiful for someone who was just terrorized in her dreams, with tangled hair and her sleep shirt slipping off one shoulder. Her face is vulnerable and raw, and Beca knows it’s taking a lot for Chloe to ask this of her.

“Sure,” Beca says, because it’s the only answer, really. “Of course. I’ll stay.”

Chloe smiles softly -- almost sheepishly -- and shifts to pull back the covers. Beca climbs in beside her, pulling the duvet up around them as she lies down. She settles on her side, making sure to leave a good amount of space between them.

“Hi,” Chloe whispers, turning to face Beca.

“Hi,” she whispers back. And it kinda hurts, how much she’s missed just talking to her. “So, um. Could it happen again -- your nightmare? Will it come back?”

“Hope not.” Chloe sighs and rolls onto her back. “Sometimes they do. But you’ll be here, right?”

”Yeah. I’ll be here.”

Maybe it’s because Beca’s overtired, or because it’s so late, or because tonight feels like a truce. Whatever the reason, she decides to be brave, to give in and do exactly what her heart wants.

Chloe just watches as Beca moves, slowly inching closer until her knees bump the side of Chloe’s thigh. Beca holds her breath, pulse racing, as she settles down right beside Chloe. She pauses, about to lose her nerve, when Chloe puts her out of her misery; she finds Beca’s hand underneath the covers and tugs until Beca drapes her arm across Chloe’s waist.

“Chlo...” Beca takes in a shaky breath, tears threatening her eyes again. She wants -- needs -- to say something, but she still doesn’t know where to start.

“Not tonight,” Chloe says quietly, resting her arm on top of Beca’s. “You look tired, Becs. You should sleep.”

Beca nods, the hope in Chloe’s words warming her. She relaxes, shifting against the bed -- and Chloe -- as she gets comfortable. She fiddles with the hem of Chloe’s shirt as she lets her eyes close.

“Right. Sleep,” she murmurs, feeling the rise and fall of Chloe’s breaths beneath her arm. “I remember sleep. Sleep sounds good.”

***

A few minutes later, Chloe gently presses her lips to Beca’s forehead.

“Goodnight,” she whispers. “I’ve missed you.”

But Beca has already drifted off.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca wakes up to a new and surprising situation. Also: Beca and Chloe have a much-needed talk, have some cute text conversations, and go to a mall in New Jersey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello! the pace that I'm able to publish new chapters has slowed since my vacation ended (ugh #capitalism) but I assure you I remain super invested in this fic. [follow me on tumblr](https://cheapthrillsbeca.tumblr.com) to see little sneak-peeks of future chapters (bc I need instant gratification). 
> 
> hope you like this one! looking forward to your lovely comments <3

Back at Barden, Beca usually just slept under a solitary sheet. Well, sometimes she had to pull a blanket over herself in the middle of the night if Amy had left their window open, but aside from that, a sheet was all she needed.

It just didn’t get that cold. The dorms were always pretty hot -- even during the winter -- and it seemed like all the heat in the Bellas house rose to the top floor, gathering in her and Amy’s room.

Even after Beca had moved to New York, it didn’t occur to her that she would need a warmer blanket until the temperature started to drop at night, cool air seeping in through her bedroom’s window air conditioner (which she had procrastinated removing).

That weekend, she took Chloe to Bed Bath & Beyond -- wallets bursting with 20% off coupons -- and they each bought a proper duvet. Beca even purchased an oversized fleece blanket for the couch (even though they hardly ever sit on it) just because Chloe said she loved how soft it was.

And she has to admit, now that she’s been sleeping under a duvet for a few weeks, she’s not sure she could ever go back to her one-sheet setup. The weight of the blanket is just so comforting and warm and cozy. She can’t wait to stay burrowed underneath her duvet on frigid winter days, watching the snow fall outside her window.

It kinda sounds like heaven.

***

Beca tugs the duvet tighter around herself as she slowly begins to wake.

She sighs, nuzzling her nose against the soft cotton and keeping her eyes closed, clinging to the dregs of sleep. It’s been a while since she slept so soundly. Maybe if she stays still and keeps her mind quiet she can doze for a bit longer.

There’s a warm weight behind Beca and she presses back against it as she starts to drift off again. She’s surrounded by softness, and sleep has nearly reclaimed her when there’s another sigh -- but this one’s not from her.

It’s with reluctance that Beca rouses her mind enough to survey the situation. She’s still half asleep and it takes her a while to put it together: the softness pressing into her back, the pleasant snugness around her middle, the steady breaths tickling the baby hairs at the base of her neck.

It’s not until she works out some of the finer details that she finally connects the dots. The hand on her stomach, for instance, sure and warm against her bare skin. Then there’s the knee that’s wedged between both of hers, an ankle hooked around her calf.

Beca’s eyes fly open as she plunges into consciousness. The first thing she sees -- a potted succulent on the bedside table -- confirms what she already knows; she’s in Chloe’s bed, with Chloe wrapped around her.

Her mind is racing, quickly approaching panic mode. She tries to slow her breathing -- inhaling through the nose, exhaling out the mouth -- as she grapples with what she should do.

They must have shifted in their sleep because she’s on her side, facing the opposite way that she had settled in last night. And Chloe must have unconsciously followed her movement, because her body is flush up against Beca’s, with her arm around Beca’s waist and a leg between her thighs.

They’re literally _spooning_. Beca could so freak out right now.

She takes a long, shuddering breath and instantly regrets it because Chloe begins to stir. Her hips arch forward, pressing into Beca’s ass, and her hand -- the one _beneath_ Beca’s _t-shirt_ \-- slides across her stomach until her pinky bumps the edge of Beca’s hipbone.

Then Chloe sighs and lets out this rich little sound from the back of her throat, and Beca’s panic rockets into another plane of existence. Because Beca’s never heard her make that noise before and Chloe’s fingers are just millimeters above the fabric of her underwear and heat is pooling in Beca’s stomach, low and sinking lower.

Before she can help it her thighs clench around Chloe’s leg, just a little bit.

And okay, maybe she’s being dramatic, but all Beca can hear is white noise ringing in her ears as sparks course through her veins. Part of her wants to try to slip away, to see if she can disentangle herself from Chloe without waking her. But another (louder) part very much wants to stay put.

In short, she’s fucking terrified.

The choice is made for her, in the end. Because Chloe shifts again, pulling Beca back against her as she sighs once more. Beca stays stock-still as Chloe smacks her lips together, and she can tell the exact moment Chloe wakes up because her whole body goes rigid.

Beca holds her breath and squeezes her eyes shut as she waits for what Chloe will do next. She feels Chloe exhale, breath hot against her earlobe, before she flattens her palm on Beca’s bare stomach. She stays like that for a moment and all Beca can do is wait to burst into flames because they’re both _awake_ now and Chloe is touching her like this.

She’s letting Chloe touch her like this.

(She’s liking Chloe touching her like this.)

Next Chloe moves her leg -- inching forward ever so slightly, testing its position between Beca’s thighs -- and lets out a soft “hmm,” like she’s just becoming aware of its placement. And Beca could kill her for being so calm about this, because her skin is covered in goosebumps, now, and her cheeks feel like they’re absolutely burning.

Okay, she has to put a stop to this. She can’t handle any more.

“Chlo?” Beca manages to croak out.

“Mmm, morning,” Chloe murmurs happily, wrapping her arm around Beca’s waist and pulling her back against her. “Sleep well?”

It takes Beca a few seconds to answer because her shirt has ridden up dangerously high by this point, and she doesn’t know what will happen if Chloe moves again.

“Can you, um,” she stammers. “I, uh. Need some breathing room over here.”

“Oh, sorry.” Chloe giggles, and Beca swears she takes her sweet-ass time as she moves away, trailing her fingers across Beca’s stomach ever so slowly before she rolls onto her back.

Beca takes a few deep breaths, quickly tugging her shirt back down to her waist.

By the time she collects herself enough to roll over Chloe is already sitting up, facing away from her, legs slung over the side of the bed. Beca chews her lip and watches as Chloe combs her hair with her fingers before piling it into a messy top-knot.

She hadn’t noticed it last night, but Chloe’s wearing an oversized white t-shirt -- one that they got at Beca’s first acapella championships all those years ago. The lettering is fading and the fabric is thinning and Beca wonders what it would be like to slip her hands beneath the hem, to feel the skin of Chloe’s sides warm and soft beneath her fingers.

She gulps, squeezes her eyes shut. She _has_ to get out of this bed.

Instead, she just watches as Chloe slowly rolls her neck to the left, then to the right. Next she rolls her shoulders, easing them up, back, and down, and Beca wonders if she does this every morning. It makes her smile, witnessing Chloe’s get-out-of-bed routine.

But then Chloe’s standing and raising her hands over her head, her t-shirt rising with the movement -- up, up, up, revealing more and more of her thighs as it goes. Beca’s brain must not be functioning on a higher level, because she only notices that Chloe isn’t wearing pajama shorts when her eyes land on newly revealed pink lace.

It’s easy to fly out of bed, after that.

Of course she stubs her toe on the side of Chloe’s bedside table in her haste, and she’s hopping around on one foot when she hears a giggle from behind her.

“Everything okay over there?”

“Yep, I’m fine,” Beca says through gritted teeth. “Everything is under control.”

Once the pain subsides she risks a glance over at Chloe and is relieved to find that her shirt is back in place, falling just above her knees. Chloe’s smirking at her -- like she knows just what she was thinking -- and it’s so confusing because they were barely speaking a mere six hours ago and now they’re… doing whatever this is.

“So, um…” Chloe starts. Her voice is softer now as she shifts on her feet. “We should probably talk?”

Beca hates the hesitance and inflection in her voice; the way she asks it like a question -- like Beca might not want to talk to her.

“Yeah.” Beca nods, taking a step forward. “No, we should. We--”

She pauses, hearing an all-too-familiar and anxiety-inducing alarm chiming from inside her room.

“Wait,” Beca says, looking at Chloe with wide eyes. “What day is it?”

Chloe picks her phone up from her dresser. “It’s Tuesday. And 8:01. Ohh, you’re gonna be late Becs.”

“Shit!” Beca starts rushing toward her door before remembering what they were just talking about. She stops short and turns to Chloe. “Um, is it okay if we--”

“Yeah, go go,” Chloe says, making a shooing motion with her hand. “We’ll talk tonight. No worries.”

She smiles, and Beca’s late-for-work stress abates as she smiles back.

“Okay, good. Tonight. I’ll come right home after work.”

“I’ll be here.”

***

Chloe [4:11 p.m.]: *photo attachment*

Chloe [4:11 p.m.]: Bandit says hi

Beca [4:17 p.m.]: oh my god!!!

Beca [4:17 p.m.]: puppyyy!!

Beca [4:17 p.m.]: He’s so cute I want to squish him

Chloe [4:17 p.m.]: isn’t he the best?!

Chloe [4:17 p.m.]: he reminds me of you

Beca [4:17 p.m.]: because he’s adorable and has a cutting, acerbic wit?

Chloe [4:17 p.m.]: lol no

Chloe [4:17 p.m.]: well no to the last part ;)

Chloe [4:17 p.m.]: it’s bc he was all standoffish at first, but I slowly won him over

Chloe [4:18 p.m.]: and now he won’t leave my side ;_;

Beca [4:18 p.m.]: UGHHH

Beca [4:18 p.m.]: that’s stupid cute

Beca [4:18 p.m.]: stop making me feel squishy feelings

Chloe [4:18 p.m.]: That’s what I’m here for :*

Beca [4:18 p.m.]: ugh apparently ;)

Chloe [4:23 p.m.]: so not to add to the squishiness

Chloe [4:23 p.m.]: but I’m really glad we’re talking again

Beca [4:26 p.m.]: me too <3

***

It’s been a little while since Beca commuted home in the heat of rush hour. The train is packed and it feels like at least five elbows are digging into her body at any given moment, but it doesn’t matter because she feels lighter than she has in weeks.

She knew the tension with Chloe had been getting her down, but it’s like she couldn’t fully register just how much it affected her until the weight had been lifted. A defense mechanism, maybe. A necessity of self preservation.

Whatever it was, she’s just glad it’s over. Well, almost over. They still need to talk.

On her walk home from the subway she picks up a bottle of Chloe’s favorite wine -- a twist-off sauv blanc with flowers on the label -- along with a bag of chips and some Sour Patch Kids to serve as accompaniments.

By the time she’s walking into her building and climbing the stairs she can feel the thud of her heartbeat in her chest, and she wishes she could blame it on a lack of stamina. She and Chloe need to talk -- she knows this. This kind of thing is just so awkward. If only she could skip ahead and get to the part where things go back to normal.

Chloe must have heard her coming, because the door swings open as Beca’s standing in the hallway, digging in her bag for her keys.

“Hey!” She smiles and steps back to let Beca in. “Ohh you brought treats!”

“That I did.”

Beca sets the shopping bag on the table and takes off her jacket as Chloe pulls out the wine and snacks. She oohs and ahhs over each one and Beca can’t help smiling to herself.

She’ll have a thousand awkward talks if it means getting back to this.

***

They change into sweats and pour two glasses of wine before settling in on the little couch in the front room.

They hardly ever sit here and it feels a bit strange, but Beca figures it’s neutral territory. She tucks her legs beneath her and leans back against the armrest so she’s facing Chloe, who’s practically mirroring her position on the other side.

“So, um...” Chloe trails off as she takes another sip of wine. “I’ll start?”

Beca takes a deep breath. “Okay.”

“First, I’m sorry -- obviously. I drank too much and let my emotions get the best of me, I think.”

“No, totally, me too. Sorry, I know you’re going first so I’ll shut up, but I think we first and foremost have to blame the copious amounts of alcohol that were consumed.”

“Yeah.” Chloe giggles, looking down at her glass. “That never helps.”

“It really doesn’t.”

Chloe bites her lip, still looking down like she’s trying to find her words, and Beca gets more and more nervous with each passing second. She takes a gulp of her wine, quickly wiping away a drop that trickles down her lip.

“So, in addition to the alcohol…” Chloe starts, meeting Beca’s eyes again. “I was also feeling kind of… jealous.”

Beca baulks. “Jealous?” she asks, voice higher than she’d prefer it to be.

“Yeah, I guess.” Chloe laughs and rolls her eyes. “I just thought we’d be hanging out together that night. I was looking forward to that.” She glances down into her glass again. “But it felt like after we had one drink you took off with Cody, and I just… I wished you wanted to hang out with me.”

“Chloe, that’s not--”

“I know that sounds super pathetic.”

“No, it doesn’t. Hey.” Beca leans forward and touches Chloe’s knee. “It’s not that I didn’t want to hang out with you. I always want to hang out with you. As you can tell from months of us spending every waking moment together.”

Chloe giggles at that and Beca smiles.

“Honestly, I...” She trails off, wondering how truthful she should be right now. “I don’t know how I wound up with Cody. We just got to talking, I guess. But I do remember wishing I was over sitting with you.”

“Beca, it’s okay if you were having fun with Cody. You don’t have to--”

“No, seriously!” She squeezes Chloe’s knee until she meets her eyes. “I was, like, keeping an eye on you all night. I didn’t love that you were sharing a chair with that Table Cloth girl, by the way.”

Chloe grins. “Tabitha!”

“Whatever. Close enough.”

Chloe shakes her head, but her eyes are shining. “Okay well, thank you,” she says, placing her hand on top of Beca’s. “That is nice to hear.”

Beca glances down at their hands and swallows. It’s such a light, friendly touch, yet it takes her right back to this morning, to the other places Chloe’s hand has been. She clears her throat and reaches for the bag of Sour Patch Kids on the coffee table as an excuse to move away.

“Anyway,” Chloe continues, pulling her hand back to rest in her lap. “I’m sorry I accused you of lying to me. If you say you don’t like Cody, I believe you.”

“I don’t.” Beca shakes her head emphatically. “I really, truly don’t.”

Chloe nods, glancing away, and if Beca didn’t know better she’d think she looks kind of pleased.

“So… my turn?” Beca asks.

“Hah, yeah. The floor is yours.”

Beca breathes in slowly, pleasantly noting that she is starting to feel the effects of the wine. Good, she thinks. She needs all the help she can get.

“I want to start by saying I’m sorry for yelling. I hate that there was yelling.”

Chloe pouts. “Me too.”

“Also, while I maintain that I don’t like Cody -- because I don’t -- I can, like... see why you might’ve thought otherwise that night.” She finishes the last of her wine and sets her glass on the table before continuing.

“You were right,” she says, meeting Chloe’s eyes. “I think he does have a crush on me. Or did, at least. And I kinda played into it, I guess, because I was bored or wanted attention or whatever.”

Beca looks down at her fingers, picking at her cuticles and trying not to think about the real reason she indulged Cody’s affections.

“I do feel kinda shitty about it,” she continues. “It wasn’t fair to him.”

She swallows and risks a glance at Chloe, who’s sitting very still, watching her with a soft expression Beca can’t quite read.

“I think he’ll be okay,” Chloe says after a moment. “I’m sure he’s not the first to fall for Beca Mitchell’s charms.”

“Hah.” Beca fights a smile by pressing her lips together. “Yeah right.”

Chloe chuckles, shifting her focus to swirling the wine in her glass.

“I, um. I actually have one more question,” she says. “If that’s okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” Beca says, wondering why she’s feeling nervous again. “Shoot.”

Chloe works her jaw back and forth, like she’s debating whether she should say anything. After a whopping five seconds of silence Beca decides she can’t take the suspense.

“Chlo?”

“I was-- I just wondered why you mentioned the guy from Jason’s birthday. I think you asked if he was the guy I, um, had over that time?”

And it’s like Beca’s brain stalls out. All she can do is blink at Chloe and listen to the roar of her pulse in her ears.

“Oh, I--” Beca clears her throat as her cheeks color. In all the times she imagined this discussion, she never dreamed Chloe would call her on _that_ detail. She’d been trying to stay within the general realm of truth tonight, but now she retreats to higher, more familiar ground.

“Hmm, did I?” She taps her index finger on her chin and looks around coyly. “I don’t… recall…”

She glances at Chloe to see if she’s taking the very-obvious bait. At first it’s not clear, with the way she’s sitting back and watching her, reading her face a little too carefully for Beca’s liking. But then she smirks, and Beca feels her shoulders relax.

Chloe’s taking the bait; giving her an out.

“Oh really?” she says, setting her glass down before sliding closer to Beca on the cushions. “Because I thought, maybe, you were jealous too?”

Beca shrugs, twisting her lips to the side. “Who can say? I have no recollection of this alleged comment.”

“Beca Mitchell!” Chloe sits up on her knees and pokes Beca’s ribs.

“Hey!” Beca shrieks and tries to squirm away. “Not fair, you know that’s where I’m ticklish!”

“That’s what you get for having selective amnesia,” Chloe says. She gives Beca an instant to catch her breath before she’s running her fingers up her sides.

“Dude, come on!”

Beca’s giggling now, slouching down on the sofa as she tries to wriggle away from Chloe’s fingers. The next time Chloe moves to touch her Beca grabs her hands, holding on tightly as they struggle against each other. She’s basically flat on her back now, with Chloe kneeling over her, but it’s okay because they’re both laughing and definitely not talking about who’s jealous of whom anymore.

“You’re not going to win this one, Becs,” Chloe says. She leans forward, using her leverage to push Beca’s hands back down until they’re pressing into the cushion, just above her head. “Just give up.”

Suddenly neither of them are laughing anymore. Beca gulps, feeling her body heat up. It’s almost too much -- Chloe looming over her, knees on either side of her hips, fingers closing around her wrists. She’s essentially pinning Beca down, and it’s alarmingly and absurdly hot.

Beca meets Chloe’s gaze, straining against her hands a bit, just to see what will happen. Chloe just sets her jaw and tightens her hold, pressing Beca’s arms more firmly into the cushion. And when Chloe licks her lips, it’s all too easy for Beca’s eyes to follow the movement.

They stay like that for a moment, breathing heavily. Without meaning to, Beca wets her own lips. And she’s probably imagining it, but she thinks she hears Chloe’s breath hitch.

It feels like they’re at the pinnacle of something -- teetering at the top of the rollercoaster.

“Give up?” Chloe asks.

(Beca wonders if it’s another out.)

(She takes it.)

“Fine.” She sighs and stops struggling, going boneless on the couch. “You won this round, Beale.”

Chloe hums in satisfaction, giving Beca’s wrists one last squeeze before climbing off of her. Beca sits up properly and watches Chloe as she collects their empty glasses and takes them to the kitchen.

And Beca knows she’s not entirely thinking clearly in this moment, but she thinks Chloe’s face might be a little flushed, too.

***

They finish the wine and make a good dent in the bag of chips and Sour Patch Kids before they realize they should probably eat a proper dinner. They’re too lazy to order takeout, so Chloe makes a box of mac and cheese on the stove.

Beca knows better than to drink on an empty stomach -- especially in light of how alcohol contributed to her and Chloe’s blow-out -- but tonight it’s making her feel warm and (shudder to think) sappy.

And hey, maybe if alcohol got them into this mess it can get them out of it.

(That’s drunk logic, and she knows yet.)

Beca leans forward in her chair at the kitchen table. “Hey Chlo?”

“Yeah?” she replies without turning away from the stove.

“I’m glad we’re okay. I kinda, like, hated that. Us fighting.”

Chloe stops stirring the macaroni and looks back over her shoulder. “I hated it too,” she says. “I hated not talking. I missed you.”

Beca smiles softly. “I missed you too. Let’s never do that again, okay?”

“Okay,” Chloe says, pressing her lips to her shoulder. “Deal.”

***

Beca can’t fall asleep, and this time it’s for a new reason.

Her mind keeps replaying what happened with Chloe on the couch. Simply remembering it gives her a thrill -- Chloe hovering over her, hair framing her face as she looked down at Beca with parted lips and pink cheeks.

Chloe’s knees bracketing her hips and her hands holding her in place.

Chloe rendering her helpless.

Not to mention the events of this morning. No really -- Beca can’t deal with thinking about that right now. (Chloe’s fingers dipping below her belly button, her knee between her thighs, her breath hot on the back of her neck.)

_Fuck._

Beca rolls onto her stomach and groans against her pillow.

Yeah, there’s no denying it anymore -- she has a crush on Chloe.

An actual, legit, real crush.

A _crush_ crush.

On her best friend.

“Fuuuck.”

***

Chloe is one of those girls who loves shopping.

Like, she really, really loves it. At this point in their friendship Beca just accepts that she’ll never understand.

It turns out that, to Chloe, all shopping is not created equal.

“I miss going to the mall,” she whines one day.

“Really? Every store you could ever want is right here within a, like, five mile radius.”

“I know, but it’s not the same. I miss old-school, suburban malls with Claire’s and food courts and creepy Santas around the holidays.” Chloe pouts and tugs on Beca’s arm. “I miss creepy Santas, Beca.”

And that’s how Beca finds herself taking the PATH train to New Jersey one Saturday afternoon.

(Leaving the city really annoys her -- a fact that she’s pretty proud about. She feels like she’s one step closer to becoming a local. Who knows, maybe soon she’ll be griping about “bridge and tunnel people.” (Even though she thinks she technically might be one of them? She’s not entirely clear on the matter.))

But for all her complaining, spending time with Chloe at the mall isn’t the worst thing in the world. They decide to go all out, sharing a Cinnabon in the food court, shopping for work clothes at Express, and sitting on the floor of a sunny aisle in Barnes & Noble to rest and flip through magazines.

They end the day at Nordstrom Rack, where they buy winter coats for a relative steal. Beca even buys a knit hat with a pom-pom after Chloe gushes over how cute it looks on her.

They’re loaded up with shopping bags and are waiting for the train back into Manhattan when Amy calls. Beca puts her on speaker.

“Oi Beca! How’s it hanging?”

“Hey Ames.”

“Hi Amy!” Chloe says, bouncing on her toes. “I’m here too.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Amy mutters. “Hope you two aren’t having too much fun without me. In fact, start saving up all the fun for when we visit.”

Beca turns to Chloe, eyebrows raised. “When you visit?”

“Yeah, in three weeks. Aubrey’s marking off the days in her calendar, apparently. A bit OTT if you ask me.”

“Sorry,” Chloe whispers to Beca, grimacing apologetically. “I forgot we made that plan while you and I were...” She trails off, gesturing between them.

“Oh, okay.” Beca nods. “Yeah, no, cool.”

“What are you two love birds whispering about? Care to share with the class?”

“Nothing!” they both say in unison.

“Ugh, you two are going to be extra inseparable now, aren’t you? I bet you have, like, your own secret language and all these inside jokes riddled with underground NYC street lingo. Well get ready to teach it all to your friend Amy, because she’s moving to New York!”

Beca and Chloe look at each other, blinking in confusion.

“You--”

“What?”

“That’s right, baby, Fat Amy es heading to Nueva York! Just need another month or two to tie up a few loose ends, break up with Bumper, you know -- that kind of thing. But then we can move into a place in Manhattan just like we planned!”

And Beca knew this day would come, but it doesn’t stop her heart from sinking.

“That’s… great, Ames,” she hears herself saying.

“Totes,” Chloe says. “We’ll have so much fun.”

“Okay why does Chloe sound like someone just threw the pitch pipe in vomit again?”

“Must just be a bad connection.” Chloe laughs. “I’m excited, Amy, really. And I can’t wait for you guys to visit.”

“Good. You better be. Start planning the itinerary now -- I want to go to Magnolia Bakery and a theme restaurant in Times Square and a warehouse rave out by the docks. Actually I’ve started a list, I’ll text it to you.”

“Uh, well, yes to two of those things,” Beca says, still reeling from this whole conversation.

“Okay well I’ve gotta drop some kids off at the pool, if you catch my drift.”

“Okay Amy!” Chloe says at the same time that Beca shouts “We get it!”

They giggle at each other while Amy proceeds to further explain in unnecessary detail.

Beca holds the phone up to her mouth and makes a _chhhwooooshhhhh_ sound.

“Oh, that’s our train!” she says. “Gonna lose service gotta go!”

“Bye Amy!” Chloe says, barely holding it together while Beca makes more train sounds. “See you soon!”

Beca hangs up and exhales, giving Chloe a bewildered look.

“Sorry I forgot to mention that she and Aubrey planned a visit,” Chloe says, biting her lip. “I totally spaced. Aubrey called me that night that I, um, wound up having that nightmare, and then I was just so happy that you and I were okay again that it literally slipped my mind. I suck.”

“It’s okay,” Beca says, smiling at how worked up Chloe’s getting. “You don’t suck. And it’s a good surprise -- I’m happy they’re coming. It’ll be a mini Bellas reunion.”

Chloe beams and clutches Beca’s arm. “That’s what I said! Maybe we can go to karaoke.”

Beca nods. “I could be down for that.”

***

They don’t talk about the other thing Amy mentioned.

The part about her moving to New York. Moving in with Beca and Chloe, to another apartment in Manhattan.

To be fair, it was the original plan.

So why does Beca’s throat feel tight whenever she thinks about it?

***

Chloe [9:01 p.m.]: you guys still out?

Beca [9:08 p.m.]: Yeah just got another round. Sure you don’t want to join?

Chloe [9:08 p.m.]: booo

Chloe [9:08 p.m.]: jk. I jst got home

Chloe [9:08 p.m.]: I already put my PJs on so I can’t go back out now

Chloe [9:08 p.m.]: you should prob just coem home

Chloe [9:08 p.m.]: I’m bored

Beca [9:10 p.m.]: lol okay how drunk are you rn?

Chloe [9:11 p.m.]: whatever amnt will get you to come hang out with me ;)

Beca [9:11 p.m.]: As tempting as that is, the last time you convinced me to leave work drinks early you were passed out by the time I got there

Chloe [9:11 p.m.]: that wouldn’t happen this time

Chloe [9:11 p.m.]: i swear

Beca [9:12 p.m.]: ugh fine. I’ll leave after I finish this drink

Beca [9:12 p.m.]: you better stay up though

Chloe [9:12 p.m.]: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chloe [9:12 p.m.]: I will! i promise

Chloe [9:19 p.m.]: hey Beca

Beca [9:20 p.m.]: yes?

Chloe [9:20 p.m.]: i know we have this unspoken thing to not talk about our fight

Chloe [9:20 p.m.]: but i thought of something else from taht night

Chloe [9:20 p.m.]: that I’ve been wondering ab

Beca [9:21 p.m.]: ...okay

Chloe [9:21 p.m.]: remember what Ty asked us?

Chloe [9:22 p.m.]: like if we were a couple or if we’d made out and stuff

Chloe [9:23 p.m.]: ??

Beca [9:24 p.m.]: it rings a bell

Chloe [9:24 p.m.]: why do you think he thought that?

Beca [9:24 p.m.]: I dunno. Probably just cuz he always sees us together

Chloe [9:24 p.m.]: hmm you think?

Chloe [9:24 p.m.]: i mean it’s so specific. When he was all “you’ve at least made out”

Chloe [9:24 p.m.]: like something must have made him jump to that conclusion

Chloe [9:29 p.m.]: Beca?

Beca [9:31 p.m.]: sry I had to move away from my coworkers

Chloe [9:31 p.m.]: why?

Beca [9:31 p.m.]: idk they were being annoying

Beca [9:31 p.m.]: Caleb kept laughing at me. dick

Chloe [9:31 p.m.]: why were they laughing

Beca [9:31 p.m.]: no reason

Beca [9:31 p.m.]: they’re just idiots

Chloe [9:32 p.m.]: omg wait

Chloe [9:32 p.m.]: are you blushing right now??

Beca [9:32 p.m.]: lol what? No.

Chloe [9:32 p.m.]: you’re totally blushing!

Chloe [9:32 p.m.]: i can tell

Beca [9:32 p.m.]: please

Beca [9:32 p.m.]: you wish

Chloe [9:32 p.m.]: send me a pic

Beca [9:33 p.m.]: omg

Beca [9:33 p.m.]: fuck off beale

Chloe [9:33 p.m.]: beca!

Chloe [9:33 p.m.]: send me a pic of you right now

Beca [9:33 p.m.]: Ugh fine

Beca [9:33 p.m.]: *photo attachment*

Beca [9:33 p.m.] see?

Chloe [9:34 p.m.]: ha!!!!!

Chloe [9:34 p.m.]: i KNEW it!

Beca [9:34 p.m.]: are you joking?

Beca [9:34 p.m.]: I’m not blushing

Beca [9:34 p.m.]: you psycho

Chloe [9:34 p.m.]: I see those pink cheeks Beca mitchell!!

Chloe [9:34 p.m.]: i could do w/o you flipping me off

Chloe [9:35 p.m.]: you look cute tho ;)

***

The amount of time Beca spends trying _not_ to think about her crush on Chloe is a little unseemly.

Chloe’s always creeping into her thoughts when she least expects it; standing in line at Starbucks, zoning out on the subway, waiting to drift off to sleep.

Sure, it’s a crush. She has a crush on her best friend. It’s awkward and weird, but it’ll burn itself out eventually, right? It has to.

So she tries to keep busy. And to Beca, keeping busy means working on her music.

Any idle time is filled by working on her latest mix, or by messing around with vocals by one of Residual Heat’s new artists. (And no, she doesn’t have express permission to do that -- no one specifically _asked_ her -- but she has access to the files and, eh, what’s the harm?)

Today she’s hyperfocusing on the chorus of a song by a singer they just signed. It’s Sunday, but Chloe’s filling in for a friend’s morning shift so Beca has the apartment to herself. She plays the song on the bluetooth speakers throughout the apartment, listening to it over and over as she eats breakfast.

She feels like she’s on the verge of a breakthrough, so she takes a speaker into the bathroom to listen while she showers. She figures out the bassline while she’s conditioning her hair, and she finishes her shower quickly so she can rush back to her room and make adjustments on her laptop before it goes out of her mind.

Beca isn’t sure how long she sits on her bed in a towel with the laptop on her knees. She doesn’t care though, because her mind is firing on all cylinders and the song is starting to transform.

Eventually she hits a snag, so she decides she may as well get dressed while she works it out. She connects her phone to the speakers again and starts playing the updated track as she brushes her hair and puts on a bra and underwear.

She spends a few minutes searching for the leggings she’d been wearing earlier so she can put them back on (it is Sunday, after all) before realizing she must’ve left them on the floor of the bathroom.

She opens her bedroom door, humming along to the song (which is much-improved, if she says so herself). And no one is more surprised than Beca when after just a few steps, she smacks right into Chloe.

“Oh!” Chloe gasps.

She grabs onto Beca’s waist mid-collision, while Beca grips Chloe’s forearms to steady herself.

“Holy shit!” Beca says, panting. It feels like her heart is going to jump out of her chest. “Jesus Christ, Chloe, you scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry! I got off early. I said hi, but you probably couldn’t hear me.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. I’ve been obsessed with working on this song all morning.”

“I see,” Chloe says, with a sly smile that Beca doesn’t trust.

She tightens her hold on Beca’s wasit and takes the smallest step back, slowly trailing her eyes down Beca’s body. Beca swallows thickly, painfully aware of how they’re standing and how she’s wearing very little clothes.

(How she can’t stop her chest from heaving even when Chloe pauses to admire her cleavage.)

“Is this what you get up to when I’m not home?” Chloe continues, slowly dragging her gaze up to meet Beca’s eyes. “Maybe I should come back unexpectedly more often.”

And Beca knows Chloe’s just messing with her -- that it’s in line with her whole _ohhh there’s a hot girl in my room_ schtick -- but the part of her that she spends so much time trying to ignore can’t help but wonder…

What if she’s not?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe keep in touch over Thanksgiving, Amy and Aubrey visit New York, and the gang goes to a karaoke bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aaand we're back!
> 
> this is actually the first half of the next chapter. it was getting looong and I didn't want to keep you guys waiting. but the second half is nearly done and I'm gonna do my best to finish this week!
> 
> looking forward to your thoughts/comments/favorite scenes/yelling/etc. :D :D

The holidays have been awkward for Beca ever since her parents split up. She always felt like she was being pulled in different directions, bouncing back and forth between houses and traditions while her parents smiled and pretended like nothing had really changed.

Since she started college, they’ve been letting her _choose_ where to spend each holiday -- as if that isn’t a completely loaded thing to ask of your child. At Barden, Beca would spend an embarrassing amount of time trying to concoct plausible reasons she’d have to stay on campus over fall and winter breaks. (During those times, she was seriously envious of Harry Potter and his solo Hogwarts holidays.)

But this year, the decision was surprisingly easy; flying to Atlanta was the cheapest option, and so she would spend Thanksgiving with her dad.

Yikes.

***

Beca hasn’t even been at her dad’s for a full day before she’s desperately missing the city.

Once she settles into the guest room she gets roped into running some last-minute errands with Sheila, and they have to _drive_ everywhere and strangers keep _smiling_ at her and everyone walks so goddamn _slow_.

Not to mention the fact that Sheila is the local Queen Bee, apparently, and they’re constantly stopped by members of the Lululemon set -- cheery women who are all-too eager to wish them a happy Thanksgiving and get introduced to “the famous Beca.”

She misses the anonymity and impatience and general grouchiness of New York. She’d never noticed just how much it suits her.

Beca’s killing time by the dollar bins at Target while Sheila's off trying to find a new tablecloth (or something) when she feels her phone vibrate in her back pocket. She silently prays that it’s Chloe and her heart thumps in excitement when she looks at the screen.

Chloe [2:12 p.m.]: just landed!

Chloe [2:12 p.m.]: how’s it going so far?

Beca: [2:12 p.m.]: SAVE ME FROM SUBURBIA

Beca: [2:12 p.m.]: (and I’m glad you got there safely)

Chloe [2:12 p.m.]: lol

Chloe [2:12 p.m.]: how can it be that bad already?

Beca: [2:12 p.m.]: I’m at my 5th chain store Chloe!!

Beca: [2:12 p.m.]: randos keep talking to me

Beca: [2:12 p.m.]: I’m starting to miss the panhandler at 21st St who tells everyone to fuck off

Chloe [2:13 p.m.]: aww poor Beca having to deal with people being nice to her

Chloe [2:13 p.m.]: maybe you should put your spike earrings back in. See if that keeps your dad’s friendly neighbors away

Beca: [2:13 p.m.]: ugh

Beca: [2:13 p.m.]: should’ve known Chloe “Sunshine” Beale wouldn’t understand my torment

Chloe [2:13 p.m.]: I know you’re trying to be mean but I like that nickname for me :)

Chloe [2:13 p.m.]: oh they’re finally letting us off the plane! I gotta go

Beca: [2:13 p.m.]: okay enjoy the sun and your suspiciously happy family

Beca: [2:13 p.m.]: tell your mom I say hi

Chloe [2:13 p.m.]: I will!!

Chloe [2:13 p.m.]: <3

***

Thanksgiving is fine.

It’s nice, even.

Beca has pretty much mended fences with her dad and she’s learning to appreciate Sheila, she guesses. And while the whole broken home thing isn’t what she would’ve chosen for herself, accepting it is a million times better than walking around with a smoldering grudge in her heart.

Which, come to think of it, is something Chloe had said to her once when she was trying to come up with an excuse to skip Easter.

Beca had rolled her eyes and called her a walking Hallmark card. But now, years later, she knows Chloe was right.

***

“Happy Thanksgiving Beca!”

“Hi! Happy Thanksgiving. Though we already said that this morning.”

“Yeah, but that was on text. Texting doesn’t count.”

“Oh, silly me.”

Beca lies back on the bed, smiling as she presses the phone to her ear. It’s good to hear Chloe’s voice. Sure, it’s only been like 48 hours since they last spoke... but still.

“How was your day? Were your mashed potatoes as delicious as they looked in the pic?”

“It was good. And yeah, they actually came out pretty creamy. Though I think it’s pretty hard to mess those up.”

“That’s awesome! I wish I could’ve seen Chef Beca in action.”

“Hey, you’ve seen me cook stuff before.”

“Ramen doesn’t count, Becs.”

“Ugh whatever. Anyway, how was your day? Was it the Martha Stewart-quality table spread that I’m imagining?”

Chloe giggles and Beca rolls onto her side, smiling against her pillow.

“I don’t know about that. But it was really nice -- we ate around lunchtime and played Heads Up until we had digested enough to make room for dessert.”

“Yep, that’s the exact level of Beale cuteness that I was picturing. Sounds nice.”

“It was. I wish you could be here. I mean, I’m glad you’re spending time with your dad, of course. But I kept thinking how it’d be even more fun if you were here.”

Beca presses her lips together, feeling warmth blossom in her chest.

“It’s possible I had similar thoughts over the course of the day,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut as she cringes at the admission. “On a related note, are we becoming too codependent?”

“Maybe.” Chloe laughs. “Actually, no. I don’t think so.”

“No?”

“I think we’re the perfect amount of codependent.”

Beca bursts out laughing, covering her face with her free hand.

“I love your logic, Chlo.”

***

When Beca went home to her mom’s for the summer after her freshman year at Barden, she was surprised at how much she missed the Bellas.

She got excited every time their group chat blew up with random jokes or little updates or just screenshots of funny memes. It made her feel all soft inside -- that she kinda had this new family who missed each other when they were apart. Who missed _her_.

She’d never had a group of friends like that before.

And even though she’s only back in Georgia for four days -- just a long weekend -- she’s getting that feeling again with Chloe.

They text throughout the day and talk on the phone every night. And it’s nothing crazy -- they just check in with each other and chat about random stuff, like they would do at home.

But it gives Beca a nice, ooey-gooey feeling -- knowing that Chloe’s out there, thinking about her, wondering how she’s doing.

She hopes that feeling never goes away.

***

Beca is seriously exhausted when she lands at LaGuardia on Sunday night. She decides to splurge and take a cab home, even though the fare is ridiculous, and she’s feeling kinda queasy by the time the driver screeches to a halt in front of her building.

But once she lugs her suitcase up her stoop and walks inside, the now-familiar scent of the foyer makes a smile tug at the corner of her lips.

Chloe’s waiting for her upstairs, sitting on the sofa wrapped in a fleece blanket. She makes an excited sound when Beca walks in and rushes over, wrapping her arms -- and the blanket -- around her.

It’s nice to be home.

***

They’ve barely settled back into their usual routine before it’s time to start planning for Amy and Aubrey’s visit.

Even Beca has to admit she’s excited to share their new little world with their friends.

They divvy up the tasks like they did when they’d first moved in. Chloe practically becomes a part-time travel agent, sending Amy and Aubrey detailed instructions on how to get to their place from JFK, researching fun new restaurants to try, and booking tickets for one of those double decker bus tours for her and Aubrey (Beca and Amy decide to pass).

Beca, for her part, stocks up on booze and snacks, and buys a Groupon for a two-hour house cleaning from a local service (she’s not about to risk failing Aubrey’s very high cleanliness standards).

The girls are arriving late on Thursday and leaving Monday afternoon. Beca and Chloe take Friday and Monday off so they can maximize their time together.

(Beca takes Tuesday off, too.)

(She has a feeling she’ll need to spend some quiet time on her own after their houseguests leave.)

***

When Thursday night arrives Beca and Chloe are chilling in the kitchen waiting for their friends to get there.

Well, Beca is chilling. Chloe is pacing back and forth, anxious with anticipation.

“Should we have met them at the airport?” she asks, wringing her hands as she walks. “What if they get lost? Do you think they got lost?”

“No, I don’t. And honestly, if they can’t follow the insanely detailed instructions you sent them, they deserve to get lost.”

Chloe squeaks out a stressed whimper and starts pacing faster.

“Dude, they’re fine,” Beca says. “If they found their way around Copenhagen, there’s no reason they can’t navigate a city in their own country.”

Chloe turns to her, likely ready to list off all of the reasons New York is actually more confusing than Copenhagen (which are probably valid), when the buzzer starts ringing like crazy.

Even though Tyrone had helped Beca lower the volume, she still flinches at the sound.

Chloe gasps, grinning at Beca with wide-eyed excitement.

“See, told you,” Beca says, speaking up to be heard over whatever song Amy (because it _has_ to be Amy) is tapping out on the button downstairs. “Come on, let’s go let them in before I have to murder them.”

***

The rest of the night feels like a literal whirlwind.

The apartment is filled with voices and laughter and occasional sniffs from Chloe, who’s just “so happy we’re all together.” Beca wants to roll her eyes, but she actually knows just what she means.

She’s missed this -- being with her friends.

Her family.

Chloe had planned to get the girls settled before taking them out for drinks at a bar nearby, but they all wind up changing into their pajamas and lounging around in the front room. Aubrey and Chloe take the couch while Beca and Amy sit in a nest of pillows on the floor, and they drink wine and catch up and revel being in each other’s company.

Beca’s cheeks start to hurt from all of the smiling.

They make a solid dent in Beca’s stockpile of alcohol before Aubrey’s eyes begin to droop and Amy starts yawning, and they decide to call it a night.

Amy opts to sleep on the couch because she says it’ll be more convenient when she gets a hankering for a midnight snack.

Aubrey bunks with Chloe, which Beca tries not to feel envious about.

She definitely doesn’t notice the way they’re lying side by side and whispering to each other when she cuts through Chloe’s room after brushing her teeth.

***

It’s one thing for Beca to hide her crush from Chloe. Chloe’s free and easy with her affections, and she expects everyone else to be too. Even when Beca feels like she’s being painfully obvious, she’s pretty sure Chloe’s completely obvious to what’s going on inside her mind.

It’s another matter entirely to try to hide her crush from Aubrey and Amy. Aubrey’s naturally a hawk-eyed observer -- especially when it comes to Chloe. And Amy may not look it, but Beca’s always found her to be surprisingly perceptive.

She can practically feel their eyes on her the next morning when they’re gathered in the kitchen. The girls sit at the table while Beca and Chloe move about each other by the counter. Chloe’s making coffee while Beca prepares a spread of bagels, complete with fresh scallions, a few types of cream cheese, and lox.

Chloe hands Beca the ceramic platter she got on sale at TJ Maxx and Beca passes Chloe the milk once she finishes pouring coffee into four mugs, since Beca’s closest to the fridge. Chloe touches Beca’s arm when she needs the sugar, and Beca places her hand on the small of Chloe’s back when she has to squeeze behind her to get a knife.

At some point, Beca kind of forgets their friends are there... until she hears Aubrey mutter something under her breath.

And Beca and Aubrey are good now -- close friends, even -- but Beca’s still vigilant, watching for the little barbs that Aubrey occasionally throws her way.

“What was that?” she asks, turning around.

“Nothing.”

“She said it’s like you guys are telepathic now,” Amy says loudly, speaking over Aubrey and ignoring her when she swats at her arm.

Aubrey sighs before lifting her chin defiantly.

“You two haven’t said a word to each other in at least three minutes, that’s all.” She looks pointedly at Beca and Chloe. “There’s clearly a lot of nonverbal communication happening. It’s hard not to notice.”

Beca tilts her head, wondering how she should take that.

“It’s a small kitchen, Aubs,” Chloe says, placing two steaming mugs down on the table. “We’ve learned how to work around each other. Right Becs?”

“Uh-huh…” Beca eyes Aubrey, still uncertain about what she’s getting at. “Right.”

***

Despite living under constant surveillance, Beca still finds little ways to get close to Chloe.

(Because she’s that desperate and needy, apparently. God, what’s happening to her?)

On the walking tour of the neighborhood -- the first item on Chloe’s itinerary -- Beca keeps finding opportunities to wind up by her side. And how is she to help it if their hands occasionally touch, sending sparks from Beca’s fingertips to the very center of her heart?

At lunch, which is on the later side -- by Chloe’s design and to Beca’s chagrin -- Beca joins Chloe on a trip to the bathroom, even though she doesn’t really have to go (and she’s sure her burger is about to arrive at any minute).

But it’s worth it to be alone with her for the first time today. Beca hums along to the god-awful song the restaurant is piping in through the shitty speakers, leaning back against the counter as she watches Chloe touch up her lipstick.

“You’re awfully smiley,” Chloe tells her, eyes shining. “I knew you’d missed the girls more than you let on.”

Later when they’re back at home, taking turns in the shower and getting ready to go out, Beca sips a Vodka Red Bull (one of Amy’s specialties) and does her makeup in Chloe’s bedroom mirror. When she gets displaced by Aubrey -- because mirror space is at a premium -- it’s all too easy to ask Chloe to do her eyeliner.

“Because I did such a good job last time, right?” Chloe asks, winking as she steps in close.

Beca just huffs and tries not to blush as Chloe cups her jaw. (And if Amy’s eyebrows rise up near her hairline when she walks in from the shower, Beca pretends not to see.)

Soon the four of them are on the N train heading into Manhattan, holding onto a pole in the center of the car. When the train takes its sharpest corner Chloe isn’t ready for it -- because she never is -- and Beca steadies her with a hand on her waist so that she doesn’t topple over.

Chloe grips her elbow, giggling as she thanks her. And Beca knows she’d normally be annoyed by someone who’s incapable of anticipating a very-predictable bend in the tracks, but with Chloe, she thinks it’s kinda cute.

***

Somehow, even after all these months living in New York, Beca hadn’t seen the Empire State Building at night. At least, not when she was sober enough to appreciate it.

Well, sober-ish. Which is what she is right now, standing with her friends on the corner of 5th Ave. as they look up at the skyscraper, illuminated in all its glory.

“It’s so majestic,” Aubrey says. “And romantic. Makes me think of ‘An Affair to Remember.’”

“Yeah.” Chloe sighs and loops her arm through Aubrey’s as she cranes her neck back. “Ooh, and ‘You’ve Got Mail.’”

“Romantic? Nah,” Amy says, wrinkling her nose. “It’s like this massive beacon that attracts all the supernatural baddies. Haven’t you ever seen ‘King Kong’? Or ‘Independence Day’? Hooo man, when that UFO takes it out?? Wasn’t very romantic then, was it?”

Aubrey glares at Amy as Beca snickers.

“Beca?” Chloe asks, eyes still trained upward. “What does it make you think of?”

Beca bites the inside of her cheek, wrapping her arms around herself as she considers the building.

“I dunno. A bunch of steel and concrete?”

“Oh come on,” Chloe says, shushing Aubrey when she scoffs. “I know you’re thinking of something.”

Beca turns to find that Chloe’s eyes are on her now. She shrugs and glances to the side in faux annoyance.

“Okay, um. ‘Elf’ I guess. Isn’t that where Buddy’s dad works? At that publishing company or whatever?”

“Awww!” Chloe pouts at Beca with wide eyes. “You _would_ think of ‘Elf’! We totally have to add that to the list for our Christmas movie marathon, by the way.”

“Of course you’re planning a Christmas movie marathon,” Amy mutters.

Beca just shakes her head, smiling at Chloe and trying not to think about how from now on, the Empire State Building will make Beca think of her.

***

Eventually, they manage to walk the two blocks over to Korea Town and find the karaoke bar where Beca had reserved a room. It’s the one her coworkers had gone to on Jason’s birthday -- after Beca, uh, convinced Chloe to call it a night -- and she’s excited to finally take her there.

And hey, it’s not like a night out with four Bellas _wasn’t_ going to end in singing. At least this time they’ll be doing it in an appropriate setting. (Don’t get her started on that incident at Medieval Times…)

Beca’s coworkers had tipped her off that this place was BYOB friendly, but it still feels weird to check in with the hostess while holding shopping bags full of booze and mixers. But the woman doesn’t bat an eye, quickly leading them down a narrow hallway and showing them into a private room five doors down.

It’s pretty small -- there’s a TV on the wall opposite the door and two small loveseats against the side walls with a coffee table between them -- and Beca thinks it looks kinda dingy in the fluorescent light. But once they all step inside the hostess flips a switch, turning the overhead bulb off and a multicolor disco ball projector on, and the space is completely transformed.

“Ohhhhhhh!” Chloe squeals. She steps in right behind Beca, hooking her chin over her shoulder. “This is soooo cool! It’s like we’re in a fancy brothel.”

“Yah! Good shout, Chlo.” Amy pushes them further into the room and plops down on one of the sofas. “It’s like a fancy space brothel. Or a brothel in the future.”

Chloe closes her arms around Beca’s waist and hums in agreement -- a sound that Beca can _feel_ as much as she hears it.

“Ew, gross you guys,” Aubrey says. “This place is not like a brothel.”

Beca distracts herself from the feeling of Chloe being completely wrapped around her by watching Aubrey as she inspects the rickety table, swiping her finger along the top. Beca swallows, hoping that the shabiness isn’t too much of a turn-off for her neat-nick friend.

It seems like they’re all waiting with baited breath as Aubrey picks up the binder with the song list and hugs it to her chest. She faces them, practically grinning from ear to ear.

“It’s a house of musical worship.”

***

Once the drinks start flowing and they get a few songs under their belts, Beca is _living_ , as the interns at work say.

And okay, she knows she thinks this all the time, but _this_ is definitely the most fun she has had in New York City.

After Beca’s third Vodka Red Bull of the night (hey, once you start on those you may as well stick with ‘em) she loses all pretense of being ‘too cool’ for certain songs. She happily sings along to Destiny’s Child’s “Say My Name” and belts out every line of “Mr. Brightside” as dramatically as she can.

Hell, she even shares a mic with Chloe after she selects “Call Me Maybe.”

She can tell Amy and Aubrey are having a blast too. Amy kicked off her heels after the first song so she could “dance properly,” and now she’s bouncing around the room with a drink in one hand and a microphone in the other as she scream-sings “Total Eclipse of the Heart.”

Aubrey, for her part, looks pretty relaxed as well (relative to her status quo, at least). She’s perched at the end of one of the sofas so she can “have a clear view of the screen,” even though Beca would bet money she knows all the words to these songs already. Every once in a while Aubrey stands -- if she’s really getting into it or if she’s preparing to hit a high note -- and Beca can’t help but stop and appreciate her former captain in her element.

Then there’s Chloe.

Chloe, who hasn’t stopped smiling since she got all mushy about the Empire State Building.

Chloe, who makes aggressive eye contact with Beca while rapping along to “Starships” in a hilariously un-ironic manner.

Chloe, who watches with this soft look on her face as Beca sings the opening lines to “Wonderwall,” only to join in a minute later, harmonizing so beautifully she gives Beca goosebumps.

Chloe, who -- upon realizing that Beca had queued up “I Want It That Way” -- takes Beca’s face in her hands, and for a terrifying and exhilarating second Beca thinks Chloe might actually kiss her.

So yeah, safe to say Chloe’s having a good time, too.

***

Beca loses track of time somewhere around Aubrey and Chloe’s duet of Brandy’s “The Boy Is Mine.”

It’s late, she thinks. Late enough that they’re all sitting down, now -- Amy and Aubrey on one sofa and her and Chloe on the other. Beca’s slouched down on the cushions, feet propped on the coffee table, and Chloe’s leaning back against Beca’s side, with her legs dangling over the arm of the couch.

And it’s dangerous, Beca thinks, because she can feel the vibrations of Chloe’s voice ripple through her body and she can smell her perfume and she’s just drunk enough that she doesn’t care if anyone sees when she slips her fingers into the crook of Chloe’s elbow.

The song ends and it’s quiet for a minute while Amy and Aubrey flip through the binder. When the song they land on starts playing, Beca recognizes it after just a few bars.

“Oh my god, seriously?” she shouts, laughing in spite of herself. “‘Since U Been Gone’? Again?!”

Aubrey stands and squares her shoulders. “It’s a classic.”

Once the lyrics start she and Amy get really into it, dancing in front of the TV. Beca expects that Chloe -- never one to miss a cheese-ball song -- will join them, but she stays put.

Or, rather, Chloe stays on the sofa. Soon she shifts, turning onto her side and leaning into Beca’s shoulder. She stays like that for a moment -- like she’s making sure it’s okay -- before fully relaxing against her and tucking her head under Beca’s chin.

Without thinking, Beca curls her arm around Chloe’s back, resting her hand on her hip. Chloe sighs, breath warm on Beca’s chest, and Beca’s thinking about that August taxi ride when she feels Chloe drape her arm across her waist and hook two fingers through one of her belt loops.

Beca’s breath catches, and she’s pretty sure Chloe can tell based on the quiet laugh she exhales through her nose. Then Chloe tightens her fingers around the thin strip of denim and _tugs_ ever so slightly, and Beca feels it everywhere.

And sure, Chloe essentially confirmed she knows exactly what she’s doing, but that’s the least of Beca’s problems right now. Because that little movement set off an avalanche of chain reactions in her body, and she’s flushed and breathless and tense.

Plus, there’s this swirling sensation in her belly -- hot and heavy and _molten_ \-- sitting just beneath the pressure of Chloe’s arm.

Beca takes a deep breath, trying to pull herself together. She needs to move or speak or something, because this is too much and she thinks the song might be winding down and, oh god, their friends are like three feet away and all they need to do is turn their heads…

But before Beca can form a more coherent thought Chloe lifts her head and murmurs something unintelligible, lips moving against Beca’s pulsepoint, and that swirling in Beca’s stomach turns white-hot and sinks lower -- down and down and down.

Beca gulps and crosses her legs.

She’s seriously freaking out and can’t think straight, but she somehow manages to register the final few notes of the song just in time.

Beca leaps to her feet -- nearly knocking Chloe over -- just as Aubrey turns to face them. Aubrey’s brows knit as she glances between them, and Beca can imagine how weird they must look -- Chloe righting herself on the sofa while Beca stands beside her, flushed and panting.

“That was-- That was great,” Beca says, crossing her arms over her chest. “You guys sounded great.”

“Yeah, totes. Great.” Chloe stands, subtly smoothing her hair. “That one really brings me back.”

"Okay..." Aubrey tilts her head. "We've established that it was great."

Amy eyes them for a long moment. “I feel like something is going on here,” she says, pointing at each of them. “But I’m also pretty wasted, so I’m more concerned about what we’re going to drunk eat before we pass out.”

“Ooh!” Aubrey nods eagerly. “I could eat.”

“We’re, like, in the food capital of the world, right?” Amy asks. “Let’s go ham on this town!”

She raises her arms with enthusiasm but quickly loses her balance, swaying dangerously to the right. Beca rushes in to prop her up, saving her from falling onto the table. It takes all three girls to maneuver Amy to a sofa, where she curls up while the others pack their stuff.

“I always forget how quickly she can go downhill,” Beca says as she watches Aubrey and Chloe help Amy put on her coat.

“Don’t worry, Beca,” Amy slurs. “I’ll rally, yeah? Let’s go find the best late night food NYC has to offer!”

***

“This isn’t exactly what I had in mind,” Amy says, mouth full of Domino’s pizza.

“Sorry, Ames. After you puked behind that dumpster on 34th Street you didn’t really leave us much choice.”

***

Beca’s tossing and turning, once again.

She’s mostly sobered up, but one of the downsides to sobering up before going to sleep is you relive all the dumb shit you did while drunk in alarmingly vivid color.

Like, say, accidentally getting turned on by your best friend while your other friends were a few feet away.

Beca balls her hands into fists and presses them to her forehead. She really thought this whole crush situation would’ve burned itself out by now, but if anything it’s getting worse.

And she’s trying her best not to speculate on what was driving Chloe’s actions tonight, but Beca’s still left with a sneaking suspicion that Chloe might actually know how she affects her, to some extent at least.

Oh god.

Beca flattens her palms over her eyes, suddenly feeling queasy.

She’s in the middle of emitting a pathetic-sounding groan when she hears three soft taps on her door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay SORRY about the cliffhanger but, like I said, I'm almost done with the next part! also your comments fuel me, so if you want that this to update sooner rather than later you know what to do :D


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The second half of Amy and Aubrey's visit! We find out who knocked on Beca's door. Also, someone walks into Beca's room at the wrong time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've had a craaazy week, but pushed to get you this update asap!
> 
> we dive right back into the action, so you can stop yelling at me about that cliffhanger now ;)
> 
> also, to manage your expectations, I *think* we have 2 chapters left after this. but I'm also notoriously bad at predicting how long my fics will be lol so we'll see.
> 
> okay ENJOY/let me know what you think/etc!

Previously on “she used to meet me on the east side”...

_Beca’s tossing and turning, once again._

_She’s mostly sobered up, but one of the downsides to sobering up before going to sleep is you relive all the dumb shit you did while drunk in alarmingly vivid color._

_Like, say, accidentally getting turned on by your best friend while your other friends were a few feet away._

_Beca balls her hands into fists and presses them to her forehead. She really thought this whole crush situation would’ve burned itself out by now, but if anything it’s getting worse._

_And she’s trying her best not to speculate on what was driving Chloe’s actions tonight, but Beca’s still left with a sneaking suspicion that Chloe might actually know how she affects her, to some extent at least._

_Oh god._

_Beca flattens her palms over her eyes, suddenly feeling queasy._

_She’s in the middle of emitting a pathetic-sounding groan when she hears three soft taps on her door._

***

Beca pushes herself up on her elbows, staring through the darkness at the door. It’s silent for a moment, and she’s wondering if she imagined the knocking when she hears it again.

The doorknob turns and the door creaks open a few inches and Beca would never admit it, but she’s a tiny bit scared.

“Beca?” Chloe whispers. “You awake?”

Beca exhales and smiles to herself over how much of a wuss she is. But the relief she feels over it not being a murderer at her door is short lived, because Chloe takes a step into her room and Beca wonders if this is actually worse.

“Um, yeah,” she whispers back. “What’s up?”

Chloe puts a hand on her hip. “Listen to this.”

She walks further into the room, opening the door wider as she goes. Beca sits up, squinting into the dark in confusion for a few seconds before she hears it: a low, wheezing rumbling that crescendos with a snort before starting over.

“Oh my god.” Beca giggles and clasps her hands over her mouth. “Is Aubrey _snoring_?”

“Yes!” Chloe hisses. “She snores when she drinks too much. I’d completely forgotten.”

“That’s hilarious. Man, I can’t wait to tell her. She legit sounds like a sawmill right now.”

“I know! And nothing drowns her out. I tried earplugs and everything.” Chloe hesitates, and it’s hard to tell in the darkness but Beca thinks she’s biting her bottom lip. “So… can I sleep with you?”

“Oh, um--”

“Pretty please?”

Beca can’t be certain, but she thinks Chloe is batting her eyelashes.

“Sure. Of course,” Beca says, because it’s the only answer (it’s always the answer). “Hop on in. Just close that door behind you, for the love of god.”

Chloe giggles and shuts the door before jogging over to the other side of the bed. Beca lies back down as Chloe slips under the covers, trying to ignore her thudding heart.

Chloe pulls the duvet up to her chest and wriggles around getting cozy, humming this high-pitched little sound that Beca knows means she’s excited.

“What?” Beca asks, smiling in spite of herself.

“I’ve never slept in here before,” Chloe says, settling on her side to face Beca. “It’s like we’re having a sleepover.”

“I mean, technically we’re always having a sleepover. That’s kinda the whole roommates deal.”

Chloe grins. “This is different. We usually can’t whisper together or tell each other secrets or talk right up until the second we fall asleep.”

Beca shakes her head. “Of course you were _that_ girl at sleepovers.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“You do that, Beale.”

Beca hides a yawn behind her hand as her eyes grow heavy. It’s weird -- thinking about Chloe was keeping Beca up just moments ago, but now that she’s here all of those racing thoughts have faded to the background.

Maybe Chloe knocking at her door is turning out to be better than a polite murderer, after all.

“Sleepy?”

“Yeah.” Beca sighs and nestles into her pillow. “Lil’ bit.”

“Wait, um. Before you sleep…”

There’s a crease between Chloe’s brows and Beca holds her breath.

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about… at karaoke… I--” She pauses, and Beca watches her throat work as she swallows. “I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Oh, no, um--” Beca stammers, eyes widening. Okay. So they’re talking about this. “You didn’t. You’re good.”

Chloe’s lips turn downward, like she’s still unsure. And Beca’s not ready to have this conversation for real, but she can’t let her friend think she did something wrong either.

“Really. It was fine, Chlo. It was, like, nice,” Beca says, cheeks reddening from the truth in that statement. “Besides, we were pretty drunk. I know how cuddly Drunk Chloe can get. Remember that Trebbles pool party?”

Chloe smiles at that, glancing to the side and looking almost bashful. “Yeah…”

“So, seriously. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.” She meets Beca’s gaze. “I won’t.”

Beca yawns again and lets her eyes fall closed. There’s a lot to think about, but right now she’s too tired.

“Did we get to the part in the slumber party where I can go to bed?”

“Yeah.” Chloe laughs quietly. “You can sleep.”

“Thank goodness,” Beca says, smiling to herself. “Goodnight Chloe.”

“Night, Becs.”

***

When Beca opens her eyes the next morning the first thing she sees is a tangle of red hair fanned out on the pillow next to her. She blanches, worrying that they’ve entwined themselves in their sleep again; that she’ll have another hot-yet-awkward situation to get out of.

But as she blinks herself awake, she realizes that isn’t the case. They’re still on their respective sides of the bed, facing each other with a few feet separating them.

Beca sighs in relief. It’s not until she tries to roll over to check the time that she notices their hands are linked -- fingers loosely laced together and resting on the mattress between them.

She looks at their hands for a long while, trying to work out what it means.

(She falls back to sleep before she figures it out.)

***

Alcohol is both a blessing and a curse. One of the beautiful things about it, Beca thinks, is its ability to cloud memories.

She thanks her lucky stars for this particular attribute on Saturday afternoon -- when everyone wakes up -- because neither Amy nor Aubrey mention anything about her and Chloe’s weirdness from last night. And Beca _knows_ that can only be because they don’t remember.

And thank fuck for that.

After that near miss, you’d think Beca would work harder at her crush-concealment strategy. And she does. But, somehow, she doesn't think it’s going very well.

Take the afternoon at The Highline, for instance. All Beca did was buy a large bubble tea from a street vendor. And sure, she bought it explicitly to share with Chloe, but they like the same flavor and a large is cheaper than two smalls, so it just makes sense!

Which is exactly what she told Aubrey after she made a sarcastic comment about how “cute” they were, muttering something about “Lady and the Tramp.”

Then at that retro diner in Times Square -- one of those dreaded theme restaurants that Amy just had to go to -- Beca swears she was trying to keep everything under wraps. But Chloe looked super pretty, in tight jeans and this little pink sweater, and Beca couldn’t help but blush every time Chloe touched her hand or her arm or -- one time -- her knee to emphasize a point.

And Amy and Aubrey probably think they’re so sly, making meaningful eye contact with each other across the table, but Beca caught them. Multiple times.

And, okay, this one’s on Beca, because she really should’ve known better than to meet up with her coworkers this weekend. But Caleb had invited them to his friend’s party in Brooklyn and Beca told Amy it was “like technically near some docks, I guess” and they wound up taking a series of trains and buses to get there.

The fatal flaw -- the one thing that had inexplicably slipped Beca’s mind -- is that her coworkers have stopped using Chloe’s name altogether by this point, and when they walk in Caleb, Jason, and Alicia greet her with a chorus of “Wifey!”

Needless to say, Amy’s and Aubrey’s eyebrows nearly went through the roof after that.

***

In fairness, it probably doesn’t help that Chloe has continued to sleep in Beca’s room every night since karaoke.

It’s totally innocent of course, but Beca can see that it doesn’t do anything to lessen suspicions. She gets that.

She just… doesn’t really care.

Because they’ve gone out drinking every night, which results in Aubrey’s insane lumberjack snores (which she fully denies, by the way). Beca’s not just gonna kick Chloe out and condemn her to a weekend of sleep deprivation. She’s not cruel.

And, sure, she may have mocked Chloe about her whole sleepover analogy, but it’s actually kind of nice to have someone to talk to at the tail end of the day; to decompress and vent and laugh about the funny little things that happened earlier.

Plus, after the karaoke night -- the incident on the sofa and then their talk -- Beca just decided that cuddling was… okay. She believed what she’d told Chloe: It _was_ nice. They _were_ drunk. Drunk Chloe _is_ a big cuddler.

Why can’t Drunk Beca be a cuddler too?

So on Saturday night, after their sleepover conversations wind down, Beca slides over until she’s right next to Chloe. The room is so quiet that Beca isn’t sure if Chloe’s even breathing, but she doesn’t dare look at her as she rests her head on the pillow and drapes her arm across Chloe’s waist.

(Beca knows when Chloe starts breathing again, because her arm rises with the movement of her chest when she inhales.)

“Becs?” Chloe asks, voice laced with uncertainty. “Did you, like, finish off the Jell-o shots with Amy when I wasn’t looking?”

“Ew, no.”

“You finished that third glass of water I gave you, right?”

“Yes, Chloe,” Beca says, feigning annoyance. “I finished the water.”

“Oh. Okay. Good.”

She’s quiet for a few minutes, but she feels stiff beneath Beca’s arm.

“I’m not wasted, Chloe,” Beca says when she can’t take it anymore. “If that’s what you’re getting at.”

(It _was_ what Chloe was getting at -- Beca knows it. She just doesn’t understand why it matters.)

“You sure?

“Want me to do a field sobriety test? ‘Cause I’ll pass. I’ll pass with flying colors.”

Chloe giggles and Beca can feel it when her body relaxes.

“That won’t be necessary,” she says, resting her arm over Beca’s. “I believe you.”

So, yeah. Beca knows that the two of them sharing a room isn’t really helping her case right now, but she’s okay with suffering through some moderate teasing if it means spending more time with Chloe.

That’s a trade-off she’ll always take.

***

Monday morning comes much sooner than Beca anticipated.

She wakes up to find herself flush against Chloe’s side. It takes her a moment to work out that Chloe’s lying on her back and Beca’s half on top of her, with her cheek resting on Chloe’s chest and her leg slung over her thigh.

Beca lets herself stay like that for a little while, enjoying the warmth of Chloe’s body and the soothing rhythm of her breaths. It’s when she hears the distant sound Amy and Aubrey’s voices that she reluctantly starts to move away.

“Mmm-mm,” Chloe groans, closing her arms around Beca. “Stay.”

Beca freezes, pulse racing. She didn’t realize Chloe was even awake.

“Becaaa,” Chloe whines.

“Okay okay,” Beca says, chuckling quietly and settling back down. “But we’re gonna have to get up soon. Sounds like they’re making breakfast.”

“Mmhm.” Chloe sighs, giving Beca goosebumps. “Just five more minutes.”

***

“Hey Bhloe! It’s our last day you guys can’t just-- OH.”

Beca lifts her head and squints at the open door. “Amy? You’re already dressed?”

“Yeah it’s like nearly noon…” she says in this weird, stilted voice.

“Oh no,” Chloe grumbles. “Becs, we must’ve fallen back to sleep.”

Beca looks down at Chloe, who’s still _beneath_ her, and that’s when a million alarm bells finally start clanging inside her mind. Her head whips back to Amy, who’s still standing there in the doorway, shocked and practically speechless. Beca just stares at her like a deer in headlights, taking quick shallow breaths and wishing she could disappear.

“I’ll, uh, leave you guys to…” Amy gestures at them vaguely. “...whatever is happening here.”

Once she backs out of the room and closes the door behind her, Beca climbs off of Chloe and falls back against the pillows.

“Shit.”

***

Beca doesn’t really get a chance to take Chloe’s temperature on Amy seeing… whatever she thinks she saw. Because Chloe and Aubrey are still going on that hop-on/hop-off bus tour -- even though they’ve already seen most of the major sights -- so Chloe has to rush to get ready and get out the door.

(“Doing dorky tourist stuff is _fun_ Becs,” Chloe had told her when Beca raised these concerns. “Besides, the tickets are half price on Mondays.”)

Soon it’s just Beca and Amy in the apartment, which now seems so quiet and empty with their numbers cut in half.

Beca dresses and finds Amy in the front room, shoving clothes into her duffle bag. She stands in the doorway and wrings her fingers, watching Amy for a moment. There’s a chance Amy won’t press her on this, right?

“Hey so, did you still want to get a mani/pedi or--”

Amy’s head snaps up so quickly Beca actually flinches. She gives Beca one of those looks that are usually reserved for Legacy, and Beca gulps.

“Oh yeah, sure Beca,” she says, voice dripping with sarcasm. “As long as you’re okay with telling me about that teenage boy wet dream I walked in on while we’re at a nail salon. Hey, maybe the other women in there will want to chime in with their thoughts too.”

“Okay, okay,” Beca says, holding up her hands. “Chill out, dude. Point taken. I, uh, guess we’ll skip the manis, then.”

“Yeah.” Amy arches an eyebrow. “Guess so.”

***

Beca does manage to convince Amy to go out for coffee and a walk around the neighborhood because 1. she really needs caffeine; and 2. she doesn’t think she can have this conversation in the apartment.

She holds her cold brew in mittened hands and leads them down to the park by the river. There’s a game underway at the basketball court despite the chilly weather, though Beca doesn’t spot Cody or Tyrone. They walk past the bench where she and Chloe would sit and watch them play over the summer, but Beca guides them past it, steering Amy to a bench overlooking the riverbank.

“It’s so pretty here, right?” Beca says as they sit down. “That’s the, um, RFK Bridge and like. This is a really cool spot in the summer because there’s this pool--”

“Beca,” Amy says, cutting her off. “If I wanted a tour guide I’d be on that ridiculous bus with those aca-bitches.”

Beca nods, looking down at her coffee cup. “Right. Yeah, okay.”

Amy angles herself toward Beca, lifting her knee onto the bench as she slides cloer.

“Okay I’ve been mostly messing with you, but now I’m kind of worried. What’s going on? You guys aren’t like actually hooking up, are you?”

“What? No!” Beca says as her jaw falls open. “God no. Nothing like that, Amy, okay?!”

“Woahhhh, Nelly. Shhhh, it’s okay.” Amy awkwardly pats Beca’s shoulder like she’s some kind of horse that needs to be whispered. “Woah there.”

If Beca wasn’t freaking out so much she’d laugh at how out of her depths her friend is right now. Something about that realization makes her soften. This isn’t really Amy’s thing but she’s worried, and she’s trying. She’s always been a good friend to Beca.

And, Beca realizes, she could kinda use a friend right now.

“Sorry,” she says, pinching the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry, Ames.”

“Don’t sweat it. And we don’t have to talk about this if you don’t want, alright? You do you, et cetera. I’ve just been catching this vibe all weekend, and then this morning…”

“Yeah…” Beca takes another sip of her coffee. (Not that she needs more caffeine right now, considering how fast her heart is beating.)

“But hey, maybe I’m wrong. Maybe the Big BM has become an uber touchy-feely cuddler since she moved to the Big Apple.”

Beca huffs and rolls her eyes at that, and Amy jostles her shoulder.

“Hah. Yeah, not exactly.”

Amy nods to herself, looking satisfied. She spreads both of her arms out along the back of the bench and lifts her foot to rest atop the opposite knee.

“Well if you want to tell me what, exactly, I’ll be here. Admiring the RBG Bridge.”

“That’s…. not it.”

“Well it should be.”

Beca laughs, relaxing a little. “Yeah. It should be.”

They sit there in silence for a few moments and Beca’s grateful to Amy for giving her this time to gather her thoughts. If she knows Amy -- and boy, does she -- the suspense is killing her right now.

“Okay, I’m just gonna--” Beca starts, squeezing her eyes shut. “I kinda like, um. I think I might have a tiny crush. On Chloe.” She winces and takes a few quick breaths. “God, I can’t believe I said that out loud. I can’t really feel my hands right now.”

“Here,” Amy says. Beca opens her eyes when Amy tugs the iced coffee cup out of her hands and sets it on the ground by their feet.

“Oh.” She laughs softly. “Right. Thanks.”

“So,” Amy says in an even voice. “You like Chloe.”

Beca swallows. “Maybe? Yeah?”

“Okay. And?”

“And?! Are you being serious? Is that, like, not enough of a revelation for you? Because I’m certainly freaking out about it. Ugh, why is my voice so squeaky right now?”

Beca tries to run her fingers through her hair before realizing she has mittens on. They’re a soft pink color that she wouldn’t normally go for, but Chloe bought them for her at this flea market in Chelsea so she wears them whenever the temperature drops below 40.

She smiles down at the yarn. God, she’s so fucked.

“Sorry,” Amy says. “I just thought you, like, had always liked her.”

Beca looks up. “What?”

“And when I saw you guys in a love puddle this morning I thought, maybe, things had like, you know… progressed.”

“Okay, this is a lot to take in right now,” Beca says, exhaling slowly. “I’m taking a pass on ‘love puddle,’ whatever that is. But, okay. Two points of clarification: This is a brand new realization. And there has been no progression. There’s, like, nothing to progress.”

Amy raises her eyebrows and Beca grimaces, trying to find the words to convince her.

“We just woke up like that, okay? It was an accident. This is all an accident -- this whole dumb crush. I think Chloe and I moved here and didn’t know anyone else for a while and we spent so much time together that my brain was just like, welp you have a crush now. You know?”

“No…” Amy says, speaking slowly. “Because that’s not a thing.”

Beca glares at her. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter.”

“Have you talked to Chloe about this?”

“No. God, no. I just need to let it run its course and everything will go back to normal.”

Beca retrieves her coffee from the ground and shakes up the ice, swirling it around and around. She takes a sip, feeling Amy’s eyes on her.

“Beca, look,” she says after a while. “I know this isn’t exactly my field of expertise, what with how things ended up with Bumper and all that. But just keep an open mind.”

Beca glances over at her, wondering what she means.

“And if you ever want to talk it out,” Amy continues, “I’m just a phone call away. Actually, text first. I’m not a fan of cold calls.”

“Will do.” Beca laughs, shaking her head. “Thanks, Amy. This was, like, only half as awful as I thought it would be.”

Amy beams and pounds her chest with her fist. “And _that_ is the Fat Amy guarantee.”

***

When Aubrey and Chloe get back to the apartment they unzip their jackets to reveal matching “I <3 NY” shirts, and Beca can’t stop laughing.

It’s just so _dorky_ and Chloe looks so _proud_ of it, refusing to take it off as she helps Amy finish packing. (Aubrey’s suitcase has been ready to go since this morning.)

“Oh hey, let me see,” Chloe says when Beca manages to zip the duffle bag closed. “Did you go for that red this time?” She takes Beca’s hand and pulls it toward her, brow furrowing when she sees unpainted her nails.

“Oh, yeah,” Beca says, slipping her hand from her grasp. “We, uh, just went for coffee and a walk instead.”

“We saw the RBG Bridge and everything,” Amy says, winking. “Right, Beca?”

“Hah, uh-huh. Right, Ames.”

Chloe glances between them and Beca holds her breath, but Chloe just shrugs.

“Well, I’m glad you guys had fun.” Chloe takes Amy’s hand in hers and reaches out for Aubrey’s, clasping it tightly. “I wish you guys didn’t have to go. I feel like you just got here.”

“I know!” Aubrey pouts and holds her free hand out to Beca, wiggling her fingers insistently.

“Oh, um. Are we all doing this now, or?”

“Yes!” Aubrey and Chloe shout in unison.

“Alright, alright,” Beca says, but she’s smiling as she takes Aubrey’s hand in hers. All it takes is a stern look from Chloe for Beca to hold Amy’s hand, too. “Yep, this is a totally normal activity,” she mutters under her breath.

“I’m gonna miss you guys SO much,” Chloe says, voice cracking. “You have to promise to come back soon, okay? And stay longer next time.”

“I promise!” Aubrey says. Beca winces as she squeezes her hand for emphasis. “Let’s come back after the New Year. Does that work for you, Fat Amy?”

“Yeah, man.” Amy nods enthusiastically. “Although, I might already be living here by then. Ya know, if all goes to plan.”

“Oh, right,” Chloe says, blinking slowly. “Oh my gosh, how have we not talked about that?”

“Probably ‘cause we’ve been drunk for four days. But yeah, it’s time to start looking for apartments because we’ll all be moving in together!”

Beca forces a smile, trying to ignore the pit in her stomach.

“Unless,” Amy continues, looking right at Beca, “there’s a reason that wouldn’t work out?”

“Nope.” Beca digs her nails into Amy’s hand. “We can’t wait.”

***

Chloe cries when it finally comes time for the girls to get into a taxi. Aubrey tears up, too.

That’s not surprising.

What is surprising is that Amy’s sniffling and soon even Beca’s feeling tears prick at the corners of her eyes.

It’s like she didn’t realize just how much she missed her friends until this moment, when they’re about to leave.

So, who knows, maybe moving into a new apartment with Fat Amy isn’t the worst thing in the world.

Maybe it doesn’t mean that things have to change.

***

Beca connects her phone to the speakers and puts her music on shuffle as she and Chloe clean the apartment.

They work quietly, changing their sheets and making up the couch and taking all the empty bottles down to the recycling bin in the basement.

Beca’s washing the dishes from breakfast (she beat Chloe to it for once) when that Residual Heat track she’s been messing around with comes on. She’s been chipping away at it over time, making additional tweaks and improvements as they come to her, and she thinks it’s really shaping up.

When she turns the water off she hears Chloe singing along to the chorus from the bathroom, where she’s wiping down the counter. Beca leans back against the sink and listens for a moment. She closes her eyes, lets the richness of Chloe’s voice fill her senses.

The only thing that could make this song better, she thinks, is Chloe.

“Sleeping on the job?”

Beca’s eyes fly open to find Chloe smirking at her as she walks over to the kitchen table.

“Pfft, no,” she says, clearing her throat. “Just resting my eyes.”

“Well, I think we’ve done enough for the day.” Chloe pulls out a chair and sits down, resting her elbows on the table. “This track sounds amazing, by the way. You really transformed it, Becs.”

“Oh, thanks.” Beca rubs the back of her neck. “It’s a fun little side project.”

“I think it’s more than that. I mean, it sounds as good as anything that’s played on the radio. Better than a lot of them, actually.”

Beca blushes, glancing to the side. “Thanks, Chlo. But, once again, you’re biased.”

“Sure. But like I’ve told you before, that doesn’t mean I can’t also be right.”

Chloe reaches forward and lays her palm flat on the center of the table. Beca swallows and follows the movement, knowing that if she was sitting down Chloe would be taking her hand.

“Listen,” Chloe says, prompting Beca to meet her eyes again. “I think you should play it for your boss.”

Beca can’t help the wide smile that stretches across her face. She shakes her head, not knowing what to do with the warmth bubbling up inside of her.

She doesn’t think anyone has ever believed in her as much as Chloe does.

“What?” Chloe asks, tilting her head.

Beca breathes out a laugh, rolling her eyes at herself. She isn’t one for mushy-ness and she’ll never be described as ‘effusive,’ but Chloe’s always there for her -- lavishing her with compliments -- and for once Beca doesn’t want to fall back on sarcasm.

“You’re, like, kind of the best,” she tells Chloe. “You know that?”

Chloe watches her for a moment, like she’s waiting for the punchline, but soon a smile is lighting up her face.

“Yeah,” she says, shrugging one shoulder. “But it never hurts to hear it.”

***

Beca turns on her bedside lamp and sits up against the headboard, shoving at her duvet in frustration.

After three restful nights her mind is back to its old antics, running and running, refusing to turn off.

(God. Wasn’t insomnia supposed to happen to old people?)

Beca wishes she could convince herself it has nothing to do with Chloe, but even she wouldn’t buy that at this point.

It’s just easier to sleep whenever Chloe is around. Nearby. In bed with her.

She tries not to read into that too much.

(She fails.)

Beca closes her eyes and thinks back to an hour ago, when Chloe lingered in her doorway when she said goodnight. She’d asked Beca if she wanted her to close the bedroom door, and Beca didn’t like the look that flashed across Chloe’s face when she told her yes.

It’s just that Amy and Aubrey are gone. There’s no snoring monster occupying Chloe’s bed, no _reason_ for them to bunk together anymore.

What was Beca supposed to say?

(What did Chloe want her to say?)

She scrolls through Instagram for about ten minutes before she finally caves. She’s bored and tired and yeah, she has tomorrow off, but she still needs to sleep -- especially after their action-packed weekend.

That’s what she tells herself, anyway.

Beca [12:07 a.m.]: you awake?

Chloe [12:08 a.m.]: omg

Chloe [12:08 a.m.]: did Beca Mitchell just send me a “u up?” text

Beca blushes crimson, squeezing her eyes shut. She’s going to regret this, isn’t she?

Beca [12:08 a.m.]: you wish

Chloe [12:08 a.m.]: lol :P

Beca [12:08 a.m.]: I’m bored

Beca [12:08 a.m.]: one last sleepover?


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We find out what happens after Beca's "u up?" text, Beca and Chloe get tapas, and -- you guessed it -- Beca walks through Chloe's room at a bad time. (And a lot more...)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beat the Sunday scaries with this extra-long chapter :D
> 
> also, this is the ~*~penultimate~*~ chapter! this will set things up for the resolution...
> 
> enjoy/pls tell me all your thoughts! <3

_Beca [12:08 a.m.]: I’m bored_

Beca [12:08 a.m.]: one last sleepover?

***

Beca’s still sitting up against the headboard staring down at her phone when her door creaks open.

She looks up to find Chloe standing there in an oversized t-shirt and tiny shorts with an annoyingly pleased smile on her face. She closes the door behind her (force of habit, Beca guesses) and practically skips over to her side of the bed.

(Beca tries not to get hung up on how she thinks of it as Chloe’s side, now.)

Chloe continues grinning at her as she slips under the covers, and Beca narrows her eyes.

“What are you so smug about?”

“You _missed_ me.”

Chloe lies down on the pillow and tugs on Beca’s arm, hinting that she should follow suit. Beca sighs and turns off the bedside lamp before settling down under the covers.

(She doesn’t know why she’s acting put off -- this is the exact outcome she was after when she texted Chloe to see if she was still up.)

“I just can’t sleep and I’m bored, okay? Don’t, like, get a big head.”

Chloe giggles like she knows better (and yeah, she probably does). She loops her arms around Beca’s elbow and hugs her arm to her chest, like she’s her personal teddy bear.

“I missed you too,” she says, and even in the dark Beca can tell she’s still all smiles. “Remember over Thanksgiving, when we would talk on the phone every night until we fell asleep?”

Beca’s mind is kind of preoccupied -- what with Chloe practically clutching her arm to her breasts -- and it takes her a beat to realize she’s expected to answer.

“Um. Yeah?”

“Well, this is like that. Except better, ‘cause we can see each other.”

Chloe nestles in closer until her knees are pressing against the outside of Beca’s thigh.

(“And touch each other,” Beca wants to say. But she doesn’t.)

“Hah yeah,” she says instead. “That was nice. Especially since it gave me an excuse to get out of watching the 10 o’clock news with my dad and Sheila.”

“I liked imagining you there,” Chloe says. “I pictured you in your favorite blue hoodie, with the hood on and the drawstring pulled tight. And you’re all curled up in a ball on your bed, exhausted from hours of being on your best behavior.”

“Hey. Are you mocking me?” Beca halfheartedly tries to pull her arm free, but Chloe just hugs it tighter.

“No! I’m not, I swear. I think it’s cute.”

“Yeah, yeah. Must’ve been sooo fun to think of me hiding out in a guest room while you were lounging in bed with a dozen stuffed animals in your very pink childhood bedroom.”

“Oooh, so you were imagining me too?”

“I mean, I’ve seen photos. That big, mangy stuffed dog is hard to get out of your mind.”

“Leave Carlton out of this! And he’s not mangy -- he’s just well-loved.”

“What kind of child names their stuffed animal ‘Carlton,’ anyway?”

“I’m sorry, don’t I recall you having a toy bunny called ‘Hoppity Fluffington the Third’?”

“Hey! The first rule of Bellas Truth or Dare is that we don’t speak of Bellas Truth or Dare!”

Chloe snickers and then she’s shaking with laughter, and soon Beca is cracking up too. She rolls onto her side as she laughs, and when she opens her eyes she’s a little taken aback by how close Chloe is.

It’s like Chloe’s surprised by it too, because she grows quiet, gaze trailing down Beca’s face. Beca swallows, wills herself not to wet her lips.

Beca tries to free her arm from Chloe’s grasp, and this time Chloe lets her. Beca does her best not to notice the look on Chloe’s face as she turns away from her, settling on her opposite side.

She holds her breath as she summons the courage to do what she does next -- reach behind her and tug on Chloe’s wrist, guiding it over her side. It takes a minute for Chloe to catch on, and Beca doesn’t exhale until she’s inching in closer and wrapping her arm around Beca’s waist.

Beca knows she’s kinda breaking her own rules here -- she’d decided Drunk Beca could be a cuddler and, right now, she is very much sober. And Chloe knows it, too.

She waits for Chloe to comment on this development, but Chloe just hums contentedly, breath cascading over Beca’s shoulder. There’s some space between them -- something Beca is grateful for -- but Chloe’s fingers are there, resting on her stomach, and it’s enough to make Beca feel warm all over.

“I had one of those nightmares when I was home,” Chloe whispers after a little while.

Beca frowns. “You did?”

“Yeah. I almost called you, but it was like 4 a.m. And I know how grouchy you can get when you’re woken up.”

“You should have,” Beca says, covering Chloe’s arm with her own. “I wouldn’t have minded.”

“Okay.” Chloe scoots in closer and Beca can feel her breasts soft against her back. “Noted.”

Beca tries to breathe evenly, wondering how she’s ever going to sleep like this. She knows she initiated this situation, but she wasn’t anticipating the feeling of Chloe around her to be so intense.

She guesses she should know better by now.

“Do you remember what you called me that night?” Chloe asks in this quiet voice. “When you woke me up from my nightmare that time?”

Beca blinks. “What I called you?”

Chloe laughs softly. “ _Baby,_ ” she says.

“You-- I-- What??”

“When you first woke me up you were, like, telling me that I was okay, that it was just a dream. And you called me ‘baby.’”

Beca doesn’t need a mirror to know that she’s blushing from her cheeks down to her toes. She has a faint memory of this moment -- how panicky she felt at seeing Chloe in distress, how she would’ve said anything to make her feel better. But she barely remembered saying that word, and never would’ve imagined Chloe was lucid enough to hear it.

“Oh, haha. Um.” Beca clears her throat. “Did I? Hm, that doesn’t sound like me.”

It’s quiet for a few seconds, and Beca wonders if Chloe’s going to take the bait; if she’ll give her an out, yet again. (Except this time she isn’t sure whether she wants her to or not.)

When Chloe finally speaks, her voice is low and gentle.

“Yeah, you did,” she says. “I wouldn’t forget something like that.”

Beca swallows thickly. “Oh.”

They lie there in silence for a few agonizing moments. Beca tenses, unprepared for the turn this conversation has taken. She feels like she should explain herself -- or make a joke, at least -- but she thinks anything other than the truth would just ring hollow.

And Beca’s not even sure she knows what the truth is, at this point.

Her brain is still tying itself in knots when Chloe yawns.

“Well, _some_ of us actually have to work in the morning, so I’d better sleep. Night, Becs.”

“Oh, okay.” Beca exhales slowly. “Goodnight.”

She doesn’t get how Chloe can just go to sleep after that little mic drop, but soon her friend is taking slow, even breaths, her arm going slack around Beca’s waist.

Beca worries she’s going to be in for another sleepless night -- wondering why Chloe had told her that, and what it all means -- but it’s not long before her eyes grow heavy and sleep pulls her under.

***

Winter in New York City isn’t at all like how Beca imagined it.

Sure, she had romanticized it a bit, thanks to “Home Alone 2” and “Elf” and the countless other movies that featured FAO Schwarz and pristine snow and cute little kids on antique wooden sleds zooming down the hills in Central Park.

In reality, it isn’t like that.

First of all, it’s December and it hasn’t snowed once. It is freezing though, with winds coming off the water and whipping between buildings, creating miserable wind tunnels. Beca has to wear layer upon layer -- socks, boots, sweater, jacket, scarf, mittens, hat, etc. -- just to avoid getting frostbite on her walk from the subway to her office.

What no one ever tells you, however, is that the layering required to face the elements makes life absolutely miserable on the subway. There’s nothing like being jam-packed into a train where everyone else is in puffy coats of their own, squished against one another, collective body heat turning the car into a careening sauna.

It’s throwing Beca’s homeostasis for a loop, the way she’s freezing her ass off one minute and then sweating to death the next.

Of course, Chloe thinks it’s _cute_ when Beca comes home with frizzy hair and pink cheeks. She laughs as Beca sheds her layers the second she walks into the apartment, kicking off her boots and hurling her jacket in the general direction of the coat rack next to the door.

It’s like they’ve reversed roles, because Chloe -- who’d been dreading the cold for months -- is suspiciously compatible with New York winter, especially for a Floridian. She’s taken to walking to work to get some steps in, since she hasn’t invested in winter running gear yet. Plus, most of the dogs at the shelter like the cold, apparently.

“The cats, not so much,” she tells Beca, tapping her on the nose. “Like you.”

***

The whole sleepover thing sort of… keeps happening.

It’s not every night, at first.

The pace of the city seems to pick up as Christmas draws nearer, and their lives get busier and busier. Sometimes Beca gets home late after work drinks to find Chloe already fast asleep in her own room. And sometimes Beca just leaves her door open so they can chat, bundled up in their respective beds.

But, sometimes, Beca whines so much about how cold she is that Chloe climbs under the covers with her, all for the sake of body heat.

Sometimes, they watch a movie in Beca’s bed with her laptop balancing on their thighs, and Chloe’s so sleepy when the film is over that Beca just tells her to stay.

Sometimes, Beca comes home to an empty bed in Chloe’s room only to discover a sleeping form curled up under her own blankets.

At some point, ‘sometimes’ just becomes all the time.

And Beca has never slept better.

***

Waking up next to someone isn’t bad, either.

It’s nothing like waking up with Jesse, who would just start talking at full volume as soon as he opened his eyes, telling Beca about his weird dreams before trying to cajole her into morning sex.

Waking up next to Chloe is so different. It’s soft and quiet and filled with heavy eyes and muffled laughter and pillow-creased cheeks.

And, sure. Sometimes it’s less waking up “next to” Chloe and more waking up half-under Chloe, or waking up not knowing where Beca ends and Chloe begins. It’s hands under shirts and thighs hitched over hips and noses tucked into necks.

It’s wonderful and terrifying all at once.

Beca starts to crave these moments. She loves the comfort of Chloe’s arms around her, the excitement of feeling Chloe’s skin warm beneath her fingers; testing the boundaries, seeing how much of her she can touch under the guise of friendly cuddles.

But at the same time, part of Beca is sounding a silent alarm, pleading with her to do what she does best and run away. She worries she’s just playing herself -- that she’s letting this thing with Chloe pull her deeper and deeper until it reaches its inevitable conclusion, ending with her getting hurt.

The only problem is she doesn’t know how to stop.

(She can’t bring herself to stop.)

***

Beca hates when people say they have “ _feelings_ ” for someone. Because, ew.

But, yeah. She thinks she has those.

Gross.

(Also: _fuck_.)

***

Chloe [1:34 p.m.]: did you see the apartment listing Amy sent?

Beca [1:37 p.m.]: oh yeah

Chloe [1:37 p.m.]: what’d you think?

Beca [1:37 p.m.]: I mean… meh

Beca [1:38 p.m.]: you?

Chloe [1:38 p.m.]: same

Chloe [1:38 p.m.]: it’s not the one ;)

Beca [1:38 p.m.]: she still hasn’t nailed down a move in date right?

Chloe [1:39 p.m.]: I don’t think so

Beca [1:39 p.m.]: just feel like it’s a little premature

Beca [1:39 p.m.]: looking for a new place and everything

Chloe [1:39 p.m.]: yeah totes

Chloe [1:39 p.m.]: there’s no rush

Chloe [1:40 p.m.]: besides if she moves here sooner than expected my room is available

Chloe [1:40 p.m.]: ;)

Beca [1:41 p.m.]: …….

Beca [1:41 p.m.]: lol

Chloe [1:41 p.m.]: *photo attachment*

Chloe [1:41 p.m.]: Bandit says hi

Beca [1:42 p.m.]: AHHHHHHHH

Beca [1:42 p.m.]: STOP THIS

Beca [1:42 p.m.]: the new bandana looks good on him

Chloe [1:42 p.m.]: :D

Chloe [1:42 p.m.]: it does!!

Chloe [1:43 p.m.]: he says thanks for thinking of him. you have good taste <3

***

They barely talk about the Amy situation in person.

Beca doesn’t know why. It’s like they have this unspoken agreement not to mention it.

Regardless, it suits her just fine.

She feels like there’s this timer looming in the back of her mind, a clock ticking down to the day when she and Chloe will have to face reality; to break this spell they’ve been living under.

But who knows. Amy is notoriously unreliable.

Maybe Beca’s worrying about nothing.

***

It starts with the phone charger, plugged into the outlet on the other side of Beca’s bed.

Then comes the water glass, the chapstick, and the LUSH hand cream that smells like sugar cookies and lavender.

Soon the floor is littered with multiple pairs of Chloe’s socks -- ones she always wears to bed, and always kicks off in the middle of the night. Her pajamas are folded and tucked under her pillows every morning.

Oh yeah -- she brought her pillows in too because “yours are kinda flat, Becs.”

Next come the hanging plant and the leafy montsera, taking up real estate by Beca’s windows since her room gets much better light, apparently.

And just like that, Beca’s room starts to fill with Chloe’s things.

She’s not exactly mad about it.

***

Beca’s hands are sweaty, and for once it has nothing to do with Chloe.

However, one could argue it is still Chloe’s fault.

Because once Beca had put the finishing touches on that track she’d been working on, she played it for Chloe. And the girl was so over the moon about it -- literally tearing up over how good it was (the sap) -- that a warm kind of pride flooded Beca’s chest.

“You _have_ to play this for your boss, Beca,” she’d said. “You’re so talented -- you should be doing more than just organizing files and fielding emails. And what you’ve done with this song proves it.”

It’s not the first time Chloe has seen something in Beca that she hasn’t fully realized in herself. Chloe’s always had that power to see the best in her -- to draw out the best in her. And, by now, Beca has learned to trust her.

But as she lifts a shaky hand to knock on her boss’ door, with a USB drive clutched in her fist, she prays that Chloe’s unyielding faith in her wasn’t misplaced.

***

Beca [11:32 a.m.]: omg

Beca [11:32 a.m.]: holy shit

Beca [11:32 a.m.]: that was so stressful

Beca [11:32 a.m.]: am I still alive? I can’t tell

Chloe [11:32 a.m.]: what’d he say??????

Chloe [11:32 a.m.]: can u call me?

Beca [11:32 a.m.]: I’m at my desk pretending I didn’t just have a prolonged heart attack

Beca [11:33 a.m.]: I’ll try to sneak outside to call once my legs can support my weight again

Chloe [11:33 a.m.]: take some deep breaths ok?

Chloe [11:33 a.m.]: also WHAT HAPPENED??!

Beca [11:33 a.m.]: he like… loved it?

Chloe [11:33 a.m.]: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chloe [11:33 a.m.]: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Beca [11:33 a.m.]: lol okay calm down

Chloe [11:33 a.m.]: BECA!!! say more words!!!!

Beca [11:33 a.m.]: at first he seemed kinda annoyed and I thought he wasn’t gonna play it

Beca [11:33 a.m.]: but he then did. acting as if it was this huge favor of course

Beca [11:33 a.m.]: I mean I guess it was

Chloe [11:33 a.m.]: AND????

Beca [11:33 a.m.]: sorry. anyway

Beca [11:33 a.m.]: he just sat there for the whole song, no expression on his face

Beca [11:33 a.m.]: I literally thought I was going to die on the spot

Beca [11:34 a.m.]: I was thinking that I wished I told you to dispose of certain items in my underwear drawer before my parents came to clean out my stuff after my funeral

Chloe [11:34 a.m.]: omg. um.

Chloe [11:34 a.m.]: k we’re gonna come back to THAT

Chloe [11:34 a.m.]: but pls continue!!!

Beca [11:34 a.m.]: lol wait forget ab that last part

Beca [11:34 a.m.]: I’m out of sorts

Chloe [11:34 a.m.]: no chance ;)

Beca [11:34 a.m.]: ANYWAY

Beca [11:34 a.m.]: when it ended he just looked at me for a second and then was all, “why didn’t you tell me you could do this?”

Beca [11:34 a.m.]: I was like um… sorry??

Beca [11:34 a.m.]: long story long, he’s playing it for his boss right now

Chloe [11:34 a.m.]: HOLY SHIT

Beca [11:34 a.m.]: the freaking vice president Chlo!!!

Beca [11:35 a.m.]: god why is my heart still racing

Chloe [11:35 a.m.]: i KNEW he would love it!!!

Chloe [11:35 a.m.]: Im so so so so so proud of you Becs

Chloe [11:35 a.m.]: I can’t stop smiling

Beca [11:35 a.m.]: thanks Chlo <3

Chloe [11:35 a.m.]: ok call me as soon as you can walk again!!!

Chloe [11:35 a.m.]: in the meantime I’m gonna make reservations at that fancy tapas bar

Chloe [11:35 a.m.]: I’m taking you out to celebrate!! :D :D :D

***

Beca and Chloe had been lusting after this tapas place since they’d moved to Astoria. It’s one of those nice restaurants with a maître d' and dim lighting and cute little candles in the center of every table.

(It’s also one of those restaurants with a $$$$ rating on Yelp, which is why they’d been saving it for a special occasion.)

Once inside, Beca realizes it’s even nicer than she thought. They’re dressed up -- Beca in a cream blouse French-tucked into black linen joggers, Chloe in a little black dress and tights (despite Beca’s warnings that she’d probably freeze to death) -- but Beca still feels a little self-conscious in such a high-end setting.

The feeling fades when Chloe tells her she looks pretty, and then the menus arrive and they get lost in intense tapas negotiations. In the end, they order a cheese platter, seafood paella, chorizo empanadas, Mexican street corn, and patatas bravas (a given).

Plus, a pitcher of red sangria (obviously).

Tonight, Beca doesn’t need any alcohol in her system to feel like she’s floating on air. It was her best day at work, like, literally ever, and she’s at this restaurant they’d been dying to try, and Chloe’s so happy for her it's infectious.

(“I feel like _I’m_ the one who had a work triumph today, Becs,” she’d told her on the walk over. “It’s like my brain is confused and thinks it’s happening to me. That’s how happy I am for you.”)

The drinks and the cheese course arrive first and they dig in. Beca’s topping up both of their glasses and munching on a handful of marcona almonds when she notices Chloe watching her, a soft smile on her face.

“What?”

“Nothing,” Chloe says, shrugging one shoulder.

“Oh, come on. What is it?”

“I just love you like this.”

Beca arches an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“I’ll only tell you if you promise not to roll your eyes.” Chloe lifts her glass halfway to her mouth before stopping short. “Like that! Right there! I don’t think you even know you’re doing it.”

“Eesh, calm your tits.” Beca laughs. “I will do everything in my power to keep my eyes on the horizon, alright? Now out with it.”

“You’re just-- You’re all smiley and glowy -- more than usual, I mean.” Chloe bites her lip before continuing. “And I can tell you’re proud of yourself. And that makes me so happy.”

Beca laughs awkwardly and distracts herself by taking a sip of sangria. She’s grateful it’s so dark in here, because she’s certain she’s blushing from the chest up.

“Um, well. Yeah I am, I guess,” she says, poking at a slice of manchego on her plate. “I mean, I thought I did an okay job on that song too, but to hear it validated by people who, like, legit know what they’re doing... It’s kinda crazy, you know?”

Chloe leans forward and covers Beca’s hand with her own, stilling her movements.

“Know what I think is crazy?”

“What?”

“That it took some stuffy old guys to convince you of how talented you are.”

Beca huffs out a laugh, shaking her head. “They’re not the ones who convinced me I was talented.”

“Oh yeah?” Chloe grins, raising her eyebrows. “Who did, then?”

Beca glances down at their hands, where they’re resting on the table. She rotates her wrist so she can close her fingers around Chloe’s.

After a deep breath, she meets Chloe’s gaze again.

“You.”

***

In retrospect, two pitchers of sangria might have been overdoing it a little bit.

Beca and Chloe are practically clinging to each other as they stumble home, laughing at something neither of them can remember.

Chloe falters as they climb the stairs to their apartment and Beca catches her, grasping her hand and tugging her up the two flights to their floor. Chloe leans back against the wall outside of their door, still giggling as Beca searches her bag for her keys.

Once she finds them she holds the keychain up between them, like it’s a trophy, but the sight before her makes her lose her breath. Because Chloe’s smiling at her with bright eyes and sangria-stained lips, and fuck, Beca wants to kiss her.

She wants to kiss her so badly.

And she’s almost drunk enough to do it, too. But then she thinks of that ticking clock and those feelings she hasn’t quite named and she shakes her head, coming to her senses.

When she puts the key in the lock she’s pretty sure Chloe frowns, just a little bit.

And no, Beca’s not drunk enough to kiss her.

But she is drunk enough that, for the first time, she lets herself hope…

***

There are all these cliches about hope being the most powerful emotion.

It’s a constant theme that runs through countless movies, if you pay attention. (And Beca does, thanks to Jesse. Ugh, why is she thinking of him?)

But Beca totally gets it, now.

It’s like years of built-up defense mechanisms malfunctioned back there in the hallway, titanium shields (hah) sliding open just a sliver, letting a shard of hope in.

And now, Beca sees it everywhere.

There’s hope in Chloe’s smile when she hands Beca a glass of water; there’s hope in Chloe’s fingertips when she helps Beca with the clasp of her necklace; there’s hope in Chloe’s footsteps as she pads into Beca’s room and climbs into bed.

Somehow, Beca knows she won’t be able to unsee it.

Won’t be able to _unfeel_ it.

She wonders if she’ll regret it in the morning.

***

It’s not that late but the sangria has made them sleepy, so they decide to call it a night. They get under the covers and sit up against the headboard as they go through their nighttime routine -- Chloe applying her lavender hand cream, Beca setting an alarm (even though it’s Friday) just to ensure they won’t sleep the day away tomorrow.

Next Beca turns off her bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. She shifts -- because this is the part in their regimen when they lie down and, ideally, curl up together -- but Chloe stills her with a hand on her forearm.

Beca turns to her, not quite able to make out her features in the darkness. “What’s up?”

“Did I tell you how proud of you I am?”

“Yeah, Chlo. Like 17 times.” Beca snickers, belying how good it feels every time Chloe tells her.

“Oh. Well, just wanted to make sure it’s sunk in.”

“It has.” Beca nods. “I promise.”

Chloe smiles at her, like she’s relieved, and Beca’s about to lie down when Chloe tightens her hold on her arm.

“Something else?”

Beca watches Chloe’s face, eyes adjusting to the low light. Her brow is creased and Beca gets distracted, thinking about how she wants to reach out and smooth the lines away.

“You’re, like, my favorite person,” Chloe says quietly. “You know that?”

Beca swallows, suddenly feeling short of breath. She parts her lips, as if she’s going to reply, but no words come out. Her eyes find Chloe’s in the darkness, but just for an instant, because then Chloe’s gaze is drifting to Beca’s mouth.

“Chloe…” Beca whispers.

And she doesn’t know if it’s a warning or an affirmation or something else entirely, and what does it matter, really, because Chloe’s falling forward -- practically collapsing into her -- and pressing her lips to Beca’s.

Beca feels like the wind’s been knocked out of her.

It’s overwhelming and intoxicating -- the gentle push of Chloe’s nose against her cheek, the light touch of Chloe’s fingers, smoothing up Beca’s arm and landing at the base of her neck.

The soft pressure of her mouth, warm and wet and right _there_ , where Beca’s been wanting it all this time.

Chloe exhales, and then Beca feels the slightest hint of suction tugging at her bottom lip. The sensation rolls through her body, sparking and crackling, lighting up nerve endings she didn’t know existed.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she knows she needs to act, to respond, to _kiss_ Chloe _back_. She inhales through her nose, and her hand is on a path to Chloe’s cheek when Chloe pulls away.

Beca slowly blinks her eyes open (she’d closed them?), focusing on Chloe as best she can.

Chloe just giggles and smiles at her, as if she’d just done something completely mundane, rather than earth shattering.

“Okay. Night, Becs.” Chloe smiles again before settling down on her pillows, turning on her side and facing the windows.

Beca sits there stock-still, staring into the space where Chloe had just been. Her lips are tingling and her mind feels warm and hazy.

“Um yeah,” she murmurs. She lies down on her back, moving on autopilot. “Night, Chlo.”

Beca brushes her fingers over her lips, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

_Holy shit._

If she thought hope was a dangerous emotion, what the hell is she supposed to do with _this_?

***

The alarm wakes Beca up.

She blindly swats at her phone until it stops blaring and then curls up under the blankets again. Her stomach growls, but in a queasy, hungover way, and she’s debating whether she needs a breakfast sandwich or more sleep when she remembers.

Chloe kissed her.

Chloe _kissed_ her.

 _Chloe_ kissed _her_.

Beca smiles against her pillow, even as her heart rate starts to speed up. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over the way Chloe’s face looked when she told Beca she was her favorite person; how her eyes fell to Beca’s lips; how Beca somehow knew, in that split second, what was about to happen; how it made her stomach bottom out.

The pessimist inside her chimes in, then, reminding her that last night could’ve just been Drunk Chloe being Drunk Chloe. It’s not like Chloe hasn’t kissed her friends before -- Beca herself has seen her peck kisses on both Aubrey’s and Stacie’s lips.

Still, last night didn’t feel like a friendly kiss. At least, not to Beca.

There’s only one way to find out for certain, though, and that’s by talking to Chloe. Beca’s pretty sure she won’t even have to breach the subject herself -- if last night meant more to Chloe, she’ll let Beca know.

Chloe’s always worn her heart on her sleeve. It’s something that had grated on Beca when they first met, but now she’s never been more thankful that her best friend is so open and honest about her emotions.

She can’t say she’s not petrified -- she has no idea what she’ll do if Chloe does like her like that -- but she can’t stand the suspense any longer.

So she takes a deep, calming breath and rolls over to check if Chloe’s awake yet.

But Chloe’s gone.

***

“Beca? What did I tell you about cold calls?”

“I know. I’m sorry. This is, like, kind of an emergency.”

“Alright. Hang on, let me get out of the shower.”

“You answer your phone in the shower?”

“Hey, don’t judge. You never know when opportunity will call.”

“I think opportunity knocks…”

“Are you just gonna correct my aphorisms or are we gonna talk about this emergency of yours?”

“Right. Sorry. So like. Um.”

“I’m dripping water on the floor here Bec--”

“Chloe kissed me.”

“Whaaaat? For real?!”

“...Yeah.”

“That’s amazing!! Can’t say I’m surprised. Because, like, _finally_ , am I right? But aw man, you’re gonna make the cutest aca-babies together. I call godmother of the first one! Unless it’s a ginger, then I’ll pass. Did you tell the other girls yet?”

“No, Amy, wait. There’s, like, nothing to tell.”

“What do you mean? Chloe _kissed_ you, Beca. Chloe, who you recently admitted you were into. That’s like the stars aligning. You know, romance novel shit. What am I missing, here?”

“I dunno, Ames. I keep playing the last few weeks over in my mind, trying to work out what happened, but I just... I keep getting stuck.”

“Hold on, let me get a towel. You’re gonna have to start at the beginning.”

Beca tells Amy everything. How Chloe kept sleeping in Beca’s bed, even after she and Aubrey had left. How Beca had grown bolder, initiating cuddling with Chloe -- at first, when she’d been drinking, and then even when she hadn’t.

How Chloe’s faith in her had given Beca the courage to play the song she produced for her boss. How Chloe had taken her out to celebrate at an expensive restaurant, how they’d held hands across the table as Beca told Chloe how much her support meant to her.

How Chloe had kissed her with wine-red lips, how her fingers ghosted Beca’s neck, how she sucked on Beca’s bottom lip.

How she wasn’t there the next morning, when Beca woke up.

“And that was three days ago?” Amy asks. “What’s happened since?”

“Like, nothing. Everything’s totally normal. Chloe’s acting like it didn’t happen.”

“Hmm. That doesn’t sound like Chloe.”

“Right? It’s freaking me out. You know, on top of all of the other reasons I’m freaking out.”

“Listen Beca… I think you should talk to Chloe.”

“Dude, no. God, just the thought makes me want to vomit. And I mean, who knows. Maybe she, like, just forgot. We were pretty drunk.”

“Yeahhh, I kinda doubt that.”

“Huh?”

“Look… I don’t know how much I can say.”

“How-- What?”

“Just talk to Chloe, Beca.”

***

There is one thing Beca left out when she spoke to Amy.

One detail that basically disproves Beca’s own suggestion that Chloe doesn’t remember kissing her.

Because ever since that night, Chloe stopped sleeping in Beca’s bed.

Beca’s not sure why she kept it from Amy.

Maybe because, in some ways, it’s what hurts the most.

***

Sleeping arrangement aside, everything _is_ normal between Beca and Chloe.

They still spend most of their free time together. They text during the workday and make dinner together at night. Chloe still meets up with Beca and her coworkers sometimes, giggling when they make their tired jokes about how they’re practically married.

Chloe still teases Beca when she passes through her room from the shower; still links her arm with Beca’s when they’re walking to get coffee; still asks Beca for a hug when she’s had a hard day at work.

But they don’t talk about the kiss.

They don’t talk about why Chloe’s sleeping in her own bed.

And they don’t talk about Amy moving to New York.

The list of things they don’t talk about is getting kind of long.

***

Beca tells herself she just has to give Chloe time. It doesn’t seem like anything’s wrong, exactly. So maybe nothing is.

Besides, for all Beca knows Chloe could be worried she made _her_ uncomfortable that night. Maybe that’s why she decided to put some distance between them.

Beca tries to think of how she can let Chloe know that isn’t the case, while also not revealing how she feels. She wasn’t ready to do that before, and she certainly can’t fathom it now.

She feels exposed.

Raw, even.

She’ll figure it out, though. She has to.

She just needs more time.

***

(She’s running out of time.)

***

Beca washes her face at the bathroom sink, humming to herself to try to keep anxious thoughts at bay.

A feat that’s been getting harder and harder, these days.

She pats her face dry with a towel and glances at her reflection in the mirror just long enough to see the dark circles under her eyes.

Sleeping has been harder lately, too.

She sighs, puffing out her cheeks, and walks into the kitchen. She’s filling a glass with water -- a nightly habit of Chloe’s she’s picked up -- when she hears Chloe’s voice coming from her room.

Beca turns off the tap and heads back to her room, slowing her pace when she crosses the threshold into Chloe’s.

(She tries to tell herself she’s not snooping. It doesn't work.)

Chloe’s lying on her bed in the dark, facing away from Beca. She’s holding her phone out in front of her, hand resting on the pillow, and Beca can see Aubrey’s face on the screen. Aubrey’s talking animatedly and Beca can tell from her expression that she’s either annoyed or mad. Chloe has her headphones in, so Beca can’t be sure since she can’t hear what Aubrey’s ranting about.

Beca’s just a few steps from her door when she hears Chloe sniffle.

She pauses (she can’t help herself) and looks over at the bed.

Chloe’s face is illuminated by the light of her phone, and as soon as Beca sees her she wishes it wasn’t. Because Chloe’s crying silently, her bottom lip quivering as a tear slips down her cheek.

And Beca feels the pang of it, sharp and jagged, in the middle of her chest.

“I don’t know, Bree,” Chloe whispers in this broken voice that makes Beca ache. “I can’t keep doing this to myself.”

Beca crosses the remaining distance into her room, closing the door silently behind her.

She has no idea what Chloe’s upset about, and it kills her.

***

(She worries she knows exactly what she’s upset about.)

(That kills her, too.)

***

Amy [3:01 p.m.]: yoooo Bhloe! It’s happening!!!

Amy [3:01 p.m.]: just booked my flight to NY! clear your calendars for January 15 :D

Amy [3:01 p.m.]: I found an amazing apartment btw. Cheap rent, right in Gramercy Park. Bumper’s cousin hooked me up with a realtor. (don’t worry - just using him for his real estate connections)

Amy [3:01 p.m.]: Check it out!!!

Amy [3:01 p.m.]: *link attachment*

***

Today has been, like, so fucking shitty.

Like, Beca can’t think of a worse day in all of her time in New York. (Including the days she wasn’t speaking to Chloe, which is really saying something.)

It all started this morning, when she got an awful headache on her way to the subway. She ducked into Duane Reade and bought Advil and a bottle of water, which she shoved hastily in a reusable shopping bag as she jogged out the door to catch her train.

She somehow made it -- just squeezing in between the doors before they shut behind her. The car was packed, per usual, and she had to put her bag between her feet to keep people from jostling it every five seconds.

Of course, it wasn’t until after she shoved her way out of the train and was halfway up the stairs to the street that she realized she’d left the bag behind.

Another Duane Reade, another purchase of Advil and water.

She really should’ve just gone home at that point. Read the signs, and all that.

But nooo, respectable Adult Beca follows the rules. So she jogged to the office and practically sprinted to the conference room for the 9 a.m. team meeting. The next hour passed miserably, as she sat there sweating and massaging her temples, since she’d left the damn Advil at her desk.

Her headache was finally starting to abate around lunchtime, and she was about to head to Pret with Jason, Caleb, and Alicia when her boss called her into his office. He told her the raise he pushed for her to get wasn’t in the budget, so she’d have to wait until next quarter.

The title promotion was approved, though, he told her -- as if that made it better.

Plus, she missed lunch. So that was great.

Then, just when she couldn’t take anymore, she got Amy’s text.

And wow, she knew this was coming, but that didn’t make it any easier. January 15 -- the official end date to Beca’s time alone with Chloe.

It was just a few weeks away.

A few weeks in which she has to figure out what her feelings actually mean, why Chloe’s being so weird, and what, if anything, she wants to do about it.

And maybe it was all the Advil she had swallowed on an empty stomach, but in that moment Beca truly felt sick.

***

Needless to say, Beca isn’t in the best headspace when she arrives home.

Chloe’s at the stove, making something that looks like stir fry, and she smiles at Beca when she walks in. Normally both of these things would lift Beca’s spirits -- a home-cooked meal and Chloe’s presence in general -- but tonight it just reminds her that their days together are numbered.

(And yeah, that’s pretty melodramatic, but whatever. Today has fucking sucked.)

“Hi!” Chloe says before turning back to the stove. “Hope you’re hungry. I got off early -- this should be ready soon. I know how hungry you are after work.”

Beca tosses her jacket on the coat rack and grumbles something that she hopes passes for a reply. It must work, because Chloe keeps talking.

“Did you see that apartment Amy texted?”

Beca pulls a chair out from the table, letting its legs scrape noisily across the floor. “No,” she says, sitting down.

“Oh.” Chloe pauses, still facing the stove. “Well it looks ah-mazing. You should check it out! It has three bedrooms and everything. I mean, they’re small, but not bad for Manhattan. And it also has -- drumroll, please -- a hallway!”

She looks over her shoulder with a big grin on her face. “Can you believe that? How luxurious.”

“Greeeaaat,” Beca says, face blank. Chloe’s smile falters, and she turns her attention back to the vegetables in the pan.

“Anyway, I wound up calling our landlord to find out the details about breaking our lease.”

Beca stands so abruptly the chair topples over, clattering to the floor. Chloe spins around, mouth falling open as she watches Beca with wide eyes.

“You _what_?” Beca hisses.

“What-- I--” Chloe blinks, standing there with a wooden spoon in her hand, not noticing that sauce is dripping onto the floor. “It was just a question. I didn’t, like, say we were definitely doing it or anything.”

But Beca barely registers the words. The frustration that had been building all day has reached a boiling point. It’s swirling inside her -- joining with all of the confusion and doubt she’s felt since the day after Chloe’s kiss -- and she can’t keep it in anymore.

“How could you just do that without even talking to me?”

There’s anger in her voice -- dark and bitter -- and it makes Chloe flinch.

(Beca hates that. But a twisted part of her is glad to see that she can make Chloe feel something.)

“Becs, I’m sorry. I--”

“You know what?” Beca says, cutting her off. She laughs coldly and shakes her head. “I can’t deal with this right now. I just. I just can’t.”

And with that, she storms over to the coat rack, grabs her jacket, and is out the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's going to be okay! we'll get thru this together!!
> 
> maybe go re-read the kiss scene before you yell at me in the comments? or just yell away, I deserve it I guess ;)
> 
> btw the kiss is loosely based on [this dickinson scene](https://hedaswolf.tumblr.com/post/631450971590000640).


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Beca and Chloe fiiinally sit down and talk...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp things got away from me, so this isn't the last chapter after all! one more to follow. :)
> 
> ready to dive right back into the action??

Beca pulls her jacket more tightly around herself, bracing against the December wind.

She hadn’t paid much attention to the view the last time she’d been up here. She’d been too focused on Chloe, even as she avoided her on the other side of the roof.

The Manhattan skyline is there, glistening in the distance. Beca leans against the brick chimney -- the one Ty had used as his bar that night -- and takes it in with bleary eyes. She tries to focus on the details -- the shining skyscrapers in Midtown, the stately buildings on the Upper East Side, just across the river.

It looks so quiet from here; no trace of the bustle, the volume, the dizzying pace.

And she can kind of relate, standing there still as a statue while, inside, her mind is roaring.

***

Looking back, Beca guesses she hasn’t been honest with herself for a long time.

She’s been operating under the presumption that here feelings for Chloe were new, springing up right before they moved in together. But now, in the cold light of day (or dark of night, as it were) she can finally admit that isn’t the truth.

Chloe had always roused feelings in her that no one else could. Ever since they met, Chloe’s been the one who Beca had sought out over everyone else; the one whose attention she basked in, whose affection she most coveted.

Back in college, Beca constantly positioned herself by Chloe’s side, pretending to be annoyed by the hugs and little touches that she secretly craved. It was just so easy to write it off as Best Friend Things TM, especially while she was with Jesse.

Come to think of it, it wasn’t until Beca was on the verge of breaking up with Jesse that her feelings for Chloe intensified, bubbling to the surface.

Huh. Figures.

Fat load of good this realization does her now, though. Amy’s moving here soon, officially putting an end to this little slice of reality that Beca’s been living in with Chloe.

Not to mention the fact that she just completely lost her shit at the person she cares about most. Beca squeezes her eyes shut, trying (and failing) to block out the memory of the look on Chloe’s face when she turned around after Beca had knocked over her chair; when Beca told her she couldn’t deal with this, before walking out the door.

She gives in to the tears that have been threatening her eyes, letting them stream down her face.

God, she’s so fucking angry at herself.

But, more than anything, Beca’s sick of lying. This time they’ve spent together in New York has been some of the happiest of her life. But all the while, underneath it all, she’s been lying to herself.

Lying to Chloe.

She just can’t do it anymore.

She’s so _tired_.

***

The groan of the roof door’s rusty hinges shakes Beca from her thoughts.

She turns to find Chloe stepping onto the tarmac. She’s holding her jacket closed with two hands, and the fact that she left it unzipped -- that she must have put it on hastily -- makes Beca’s heart ache.

It’s not exactly dark up here -- what with the city lights -- but it takes her a few seconds to spot Beca. Once she does she visibly exhales, like she’s relieved she found her, and that makes Beca ache even more.

“Hey.” Beca sniffs and quickly wipes her cheeks with her fingers as Chloe approaches. “How’d you find me?”

Chloe reaches into her pocket and pulls out a light pink mitten -- half of the pair she’d bought for Beca at the end of fall.

“This was on the floor in the hall. By the back stairs.”

She’s standing in front of Beca now, keeping a few feet between them like she’s afraid to get too close. Beca realizes there’s no end to the amount of aching her heart is capable of.

“Oh.” Beca takes the mitten from her and tucks it into her own pocket. “Um, thanks.”

Chloe watches her for a moment with this look on her face that Beca can hardly stand. Her brows are knit in confusion and her eyes are soft and sad.

She opens her mouth, like she’s about to say something, but then she hesitates, and Beca a lump forms in Beca’s throat.

Whatever she’s about to say, it’s well within her right. She doesn’t look like she’s about to yell at her, but they’re probably past that point, Beca thinks. Maybe she doesn’t want to live together anymore. Maybe Beca’s made things too weird. Too uncomfortable.

Beca holds her breath as Chloe presses her lips together before trying again.

“Beca…” she says, taking a careful step forward. “Are you okay?”

Beca huffs out a shaky laugh, feeling like she just got socked in the gut. After everything -- the thinly veiled jealousy and the storm-out-of-the-room arguments and whatever Beca did that made Chloe go back to her own bed -- Chloe’s still worried about _Beca_?

All Beca can do is shake her head, both in answer to the question and in disbelief at how kind and caring Chloe is. She tilts her head back, looking into the starless sky and willing the tears from her eyes.

“Tell me?” Chloe takes another step, closing the distance between them. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please?”

Beca swallows thickly before taking a deep breath. She meets Chloe’s gaze again. Now that she’s closer Beca can make out her features more clearly; the building wetness in her eyes, the faint tremble in her bottom lip.

One of Beca’s tears breaks free, slipping down her cheek before she swipes it away with her hand.

(She’s sick of lying.)

(She’s so _tired_.)

“I’m, like, kind of in love with you a little bit, I think.”

And wow, okay, even she can’t believe she actually said that. She hasn’t even allowed herself to _think_ that before this moment.

She holds her breath and watches Chloe for her reaction. She doesn’t find one, though -- not at first. Chloe doesn’t move a muscle, and Beca’s starting to question whether she spoke at all when Chloe takes her hand.

Beca exhales and closes her eyes, nodding subtly to herself. She trusts Chloe to let her down easy. She’s still proud of herself for saying it; for telling her.

“Beca,” Chloe whispers, sounding closer than she was before.

She releases Beca’s hand, and Beca opens her eyes just in time to see Chloe leaning in. She rests her forehead against Beca’s, nose gently pressing into her cheek, and every other thought in Beca’s head fades away.

Beca lets her eyes fall closed, lips parting in surprise. Her hands slip under Chloe’s jacket and find her waist, gripping tightly in an attempt to ground herself.

It feels like the whole world is spinning.

“ _Beca_ ,” Chloe whispers again.

And it’s so easy -- so, so easy -- for Beca to lift her chin and cover Chloe’s mouth with her own.

They stay like that for a moment, holding each other as they press their lips together. It’s sweet and chaste and completely fucking mind-blowing. And for once, Beca isn’t being hyperbolic -- her mind is legitimately blown, smashed to pieces, incapable of forming thoughts.

It does seem capable of movement, though, because then she’s tugging Chloe closer and lightly sucking on her bottom lip.

Chloe hums -- a sound Beca feels in her chest -- and kisses her back as she slides one of her hands up Beca’s body. She curls her fingers around the back of Beca’s neck, nails gently scratching up into her hair and making Beca gasp.

Chloe takes the opportunity to tilt her head, nose brushing over Beca’s before she finds her mouth again and kisses her more deeply. Their lips part and come back together, again and again, and it’s agonizingly slow and tender in a way that Beca can’t tell if it’s too much or not nearly enough.

Beca’s hands are itching to move, and she’s about to smooth them up Chloe’s back when she feels wetness on her cheek, and this time she’s pretty sure it isn’t hers.

It takes all of her willpower to pull back so she can look at Chloe. And, god, is she not ready for what she sees; Chloe’s breathless, chest heaving as she stares at Beca with unfocused eyes and swollen lips.

And tears streaming down her face.

Beca takes Chloe’s face in her hands, gently brushing her thumbs across her cheeks, wiping the tears away.

“Hey,” she whispers. “Are you okay? Is this-- Was that okay?”

Chloe laughs and smiles brightly, even as tears continue to escape from the corners of her eyes. “Yes,” she says. “That was definitely okay.”

Her gaze drops to Beca’s lips, and Beca has to fight every impulse to stop herself from leaning in again.

“But… You’re crying.”

Chloe rolls her eyes and laughs again -- like she heard something funny -- and Beca’s never been more confused. All she can do is watch as Chloe covers Beca’s hands with her own.

“Because I, like, kinda love you too.” She turns her head and presses a kiss to the inside of Beca’s wrist. “I’m in love with you, Beca.”

“Oh.” Beca’s mouth falls open, eyes searching Chloe’s face. “You are?”

“Yeah. I, like, kind of have for a long time.” She eases one of Beca’s hands from her cheek and softly kisses her palm. “You really didn’t know?”

“No,” Beca says, shaking her head incredulously. “But I’m a fucking idiot, so.”

Chloe bursts out laughing and Beca joins her. It feels good to laugh like this; to release some of the overwhelming happiness that is suddenly packed inside of her. It hits her how ridiculous they are -- clinging to each other on this windswept roof, teary-eyed and shaking with joy -- and that just makes her laugh more.

After a little while Chloe shivers, and Beca pulls her in for a hug to warm her up (and to feel her body against her again).

She kisses the shell of Chloe’s ear, which is freezing cold against her lips. “Should we go back inside?”

“Yes please.” Chloe tucks her face into the crook of Beca’s neck. “You couldn’t have stormed off to somewhere warm?”

Beca chuckles and hugs Chloe tighter. “Would you have preferred to have had this conversation in the laundry room in the basement?”

“I mean…” Chloe leans back just enough for Beca to spot the smirk spreading across her lips. “Maybe Ty would’ve been down there. That would’ve been a satisfying moment for him to see.”

“Oh my god,” Beca says, rolling her eyes. “You’re so ridiculous.”

Chloe winks. “And you love it.”

***

(Yeah. She does.)

***

They make it down three flights of stairs before Chloe grabs Beca’s wrist, pulling her toward her before walking her back against the wall.

Chloe cups Beca’s jaw, eyes sweeping over her face for a moment before she leans in and kisses her. Beca smiles against Chloe’s mouth, still in utter disbelief that this is okay, now. Her hands find their way under Chloe’s jacket and smooth up her sides. Then Chloe exhales sharply against Beca’s cheek, and Beca’s stomach drops with the heat of it.

Just minutes ago she was shivering in the December night, but now -- here with Chloe, on this landing -- she _burns_.

***

They make it back to their apartment, eventually. (Largely thanks to the guy who barged into the stairwell to take out his trash. Chloe had giggled at the way Beca glared at him. “Wow, Becs. If looks could kill...”)

As Beca hangs her jacket on the coat rack, it occurs to her that her world is completely different than it was when she last walked out the door. She turns to look at the small front room, taking everything in -- the tiny couch and the scratched coffee table on one side, the kitchen and the cramped dining area on the other.

It looks brighter, somehow. Like it’s filled with color.

Her eyes land on the stove, where the stir fry Chloe had been cooking sits in the pan. It’s probably cold by now.

The thought sends a pang to Beca’s chest. Chloe was in the middle of making dinner -- making dinner for _her_ \-- and Beca’s little dramatic outburst ruined it.

She turns to Chloe, who’s kicking off her boots by the door. “I’m really sorry about, like, flipping out and everything,” she says, gesturing toward the toppled chair. “It was about bigger issues, as you, uh, now know. But still, that was unfair and, like, super shitty of me. You didn’t deserve that.”

Chloe smiles at her and slips her hand into Beca’s. And it’s so dumb, but even that little touch makes Beca’s heart speed up.

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “I’m sure it wasn’t easy to have kept all of your feelings in.” She squeezes Beca’s hand. “I know it wasn’t for me.”

Beca smiles at her, the backs of her eyes stinging again. The fact that someone this caring and understanding _loves_ her is something she’ll never understand.

“Thanks, Chlo. Really.”

She runs her thumb over the back of Chloe’s knuckles, wondering what to do next. Because she has a million questions, but it’s also been about three minutes since she kissed Chloe and she really wants to do that again.

Then her stomach growls. Very loudly.

Beca’s eyes widen in embarrassment, but Chloe just giggles.

“Hungry?”

“One could say that.” Beca laughs. “I kinda haven’t eaten all day. And that stir fry does smell, like, crazy good.”

“Good thing it’s almost ready,” Chloe says, pressing a kiss to Beca’s cheek. “I’ll go heat it up.”

***

Soon they’re sitting across from each other at the kitchen table with bowls of steaming stir fry over rice.

They eat with chopsticks, and when Beca takes her first bite the moan she makes is a little unseemly. But she’s so hungry and it’s _so_ good that she doesn’t even care. (And if Chloe’s cheeks get red, it’s probably just from the steam.)

“See, now this is how you’re supposed to eat Chinese food,” Beca says once she’s taken a few more bites. “As a composed meal, on two separate plates. Imagine if we had a carton of rice and a carton of stir fry and had to pass them back and forth? It’d be chaos.”

Chloe grins at her, eyebrows lifting at her mini rant. And yeah, Beca’s rambling. She’s avoiding some of the more obvious subjects they could be talking about right now. But now that they’re here -- with limitless possibilities stretching before them -- she doesn’t know where to begin.

She’s actually sort of afraid to begin.

Part of her wishes she could just live here forever, in this in-between world where she and Chloe love each other. And they kiss now. The end.

(It’s much simpler than the real world, where she still doesn’t know what tonight’s revelation means, exactly. Where they’ll have to make some very real decisions about their living situation pretty soon. Where Beca stresses about everything, because she can’t not stress, apparently. Ugh.)

“Toootally,” Chloe says, popping a water chestnut in her mouth. “Pure and utter chaos. Good thing we have plates now. And a table. And, like, literally everything.”

Beca presses her lips together, pleased that Chloe is thinking of that first night, too. Back then, she was so happy just sitting on the floor in an empty room with her best friend. That Beca was so clueless. That Beca had no idea why she got butterflies in her stomach any time Chloe was around, why her skin felt warmer after every innocent touch.

She’s so glad she knows why, now. That she finally, _finally_ , worked it out.

Beca reaches out and rests her arm on the table, palm facing up, and it’s not long before Chloe’s hand finds hers.

“Do you remember our first night here?” she asks. “How we slept on that tiny air mattress?”

“Yeah.” Chloe smiles, smoothing her thumb across the back of Beca’s hand. “You were worried that you were all alone.”

Beca thinks back to that night. She was scared of being alone in such a big city. She was scared about whether their empty new apartment would ever feel like home. And she was scared about the way she felt when Chloe put her arm around her; when she told her they weren’t alone because they had each other.

Then she thinks about how full their lives are now. With their jobs and coworkers and the guys across the hall and the barista who remembers their coffee order and the street performers on the corner of 31st and Broadway and the owner of Chloe’s favorite Greek restaurant who brings them a square baklava with two forks at the end of every brunch, on the house.

But Beca doesn’t know how to say all that. Not tonight, when she already feels like she’s been split open and sewn back together.

“I never felt alone, though. Not really,” she says instead. She meets Chloe’s gaze across the table, hoping to convey at least a fraction of what she’s feeling. “Not when I’m with you.”

Chloe squeezes her hand, expression softening, and Beca knows she gets it.

(She always gets it.)

(Fuck, Beca is so in love with her.)

***

Beca tucks her feet beneath her on the couch and takes a sip of wine. Chloe curls up next to her, their knees knocking together briefly as she gets settled.

In some ways it’s reminiscent of the last time they had a discussion on this couch, when they cleared the air after their fight. And while Beca’s infinitely happier now than she was back then, the whole talking part still makes her anxious. She’s just not good at it. And even though she doesn’t have to skirt the truth anymore, she’s afraid she’ll somehow find a way to fuck up. ( _That_ she’s good at.)

She takes another gulp of wine.

“You okay?” Chloe asks. She squeezes Beca’s leg, just above her knee.

“Mm-hm, yeah.” Beca nods. “It just feels like we have a lot of ground to cover here, probably, and it’s just like, ‘Ahhh, where to begin?!’ You know?”

“I do know. Honestly my mind is, like, still reeling. God, I can’t believe…” She trails off, glancing away and smiling to herself. “But we don’t have to cover it all tonight, okay? Or at all, if you don’t want. It’s been a long day -- we could always talk tomorrow or--”

“No!” Beca says, caught off guard by how adamant she sounds. She clears her throat. “Tonight, please. I mean. Tonight is fine.”

“Okay, perf.” Chloe laughs quietly and rubs Beca’s thigh (a touch that proves to be pretty distracting, even through Beca’s jeans). “Any preference on, like, where to begin?”

“Yeah, um. Hang on.” Beca holds up her index finger as she takes a few sips of wine to galvanize herself. “Can I just, uh, tell you my deal real quick? Before I chicken out.”

Chloe’s face lights up and she scoots in closer until her shin is pressed against Beca’s knee. “I would love to hear your deal,” she says. “And hey -- it’s just me. We’ve already established how I feel about you, and nothing’s gonna change that. Okay?”

Beca takes a deep breath and nods shallowly. It’s the first time either of them have referenced what they’d told each other on the roof and it makes her stomach flip.

“Okay,” she says. “This is gonna be, like, super stream of consciousness, so just bear with me.”

“No worries. Take your time.”

Beca squeezes her eyes shut, searching for the best place to pick up the thread, to start to unravel how she wound up here.

“I’ve liked you since hood night,” she blurts out, surprising herself. “Oh wow, okay. I realized that, like, right this second. But I think that was it, for me. At that party you pulled me toward you and told me we were going to be friends, and we were so close and I thought you were going to… Anyway, you probably don’t remember.”

“I remember,” Chloe says quietly.

“Oh. Good.” Beca gulps, willing herself to continue on. “My point, I guess, is that I’ve always liked you. I just didn’t recognize it for what it was. I convinced myself that we just had a special bond, you know, as friends. And I believed that for a long time. Until I decided to end things with Jesse.”

Chloe tilts her head to the side. “I thought you and Jesse breaking up was mutual.”

“I mean, he wasn’t exactly devastated. I hadn’t been feeling it for a while, and I think he could tell. But yeah… it was my idea to end things. And I’m sorry I didn’t tell you -- I know you wanted me to talk to you about that more and everything. But at the time, even I wasn’t, like, all that clear on my thought process.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I can imagine that was confusing.”

“It was. I can really make things hard for myself, right? It’s a gift.” Beca rolls her eyes at herself. She’s feeling more comfortable with this whole opening up thing, so she plows on. “Okay so, cut to us living together. It was like all these feelings that I had written off as friend-type feelings suddenly hit different. At first I thought it was a crush and that it would just fizzle out or whatever. But it didn’t. And then Amy said--”

Chloe gasps, mouth falling open. “You talked to Amy about it?”

“I had to tell someone! I was, like, kind of dying at that point. Plus, she’d just walked into my room and saw us in bed all…” Beca gestures vaguely between them, avoiding Chloe’s eyes (and ignoring Chloe when she snickers). “Amy wasn’t just gonna let that slide. We talked when you and Aubrey went on that bus tour.”

“Oh my god. What I wouldn’t give to have witnessed that conversation.” Chloe hides a giggle behind her hand. “Also I was probably talking to Aubrey about you at the exact same time.”

“You what now?”

“We’ll get to that later. Please continue. What did Amy say?”

Beca narrows her eyes, blushing at the thought of Chloe talking to Aubrey about her.

“We’re definitely circling back to that,” she says, pointing at Chloe. “But yeah, I told Amy and she was, like, not surprised in the slightest. She thought I’d always liked you. Which was incredibly annoying to hear at the time, but I guess kinda helpful, in the long run. But she can’t know that, alright?”

Chloe chuckles and rolls her eyes. “My lips are sealed.”

“Then, I dunno. After that it all just started to dawn on me. We were like, um, sleeping together every night. Sleeping in _bed_ together, I mean.” Beca laughs nervously as Chloe smirks. “And I, like, really really liked that. Just being close to you.”

Chloe smiles softly, squeezing Beca’s thigh. “I liked that too.”

Beca smiles back, gaze dropping to Chloe’s lips. Her resolve is beginning to waver -- that initial burst of adrenaline wearing off -- but she musters the strength to finish up.

“Then you... You kissed me,” she says quietly. “That night after tapas. And that was… Wow, Chloe.” She presses her lips together, remembering how she felt in that moment. “For the first time I thought maybe it wasn’t just me, you know? But then in the morning you were gone. And then you went back to your own bed. And Amy booked her flight and, well. You basically know the rest from there. Honestly, I didn’t even put it together that I was in love with you until I was up there crying on the roof. Needless to say, I could have handled things better.”

“I think sometimes you just handle things how you handle things, and that’s all you can do,” Chloe says. “I had no idea you were going through all that, Beca.” She inches in even closer on the couch and slips her hand into Beca’s. “I’m sorry you had to deal with it mostly on your own. I’m glad you had Amy to talk to, though.”

“Me too.” Beca smiles and links their fingers together. “Okay, that’s enough from me for the night. You say words now.”

Chloe laughs, eyes shining, and Beca feels all warm inside. She definitely didn’t intend on talking that much, but she feels much better now that she’s said it. It’s like a weight she didn’t know she’d been carrying has been lifted.

“K,” Chloe says, sitting up straighter. “My story is kinda fast and clichéd in comparison. Well, I guess that’s not true -- there’s a long, anguished version, but we don’t need to get into that tonight.”

Chloe bites her lip and looks away, a crease forming between her brows, and Beca’s struck by the urge to wrap her in her arms. Instead she tightens her hold on Chloe’s hand as she waits for her to begin.

“So, here’s the short version,” Chloe continues, meeting Beca’s eyes again. “I don’t remember a time when I didn’t like you.” She bites her lip. “When I didn’t love you.”

Beca blinks, eyebrows rising in shock. “Oh,” she breathes.

“See? Cliché, right? But I’ve always loved you, Becs. I couldn’t tell how you felt at first, and then you were with Jesse and I just accepted that it wasn’t going to happen. And it wasn’t easy, but I came to be okay with that. It was enough to just be your friend.”

“Chloe…” Beca swallows around the lump that is forming in her throat. “Fuck, I literally had no clue.”

“I know you didn’t. You’re kinda easy to fool.” Chloe winks and smiles softly, traces of sadness still etched on her face. “And I mean, I would’ve been happy like that, forever. If that’s all we were. Just friends. You’re, like, the best friend I’ve ever had. Just don’t tell Aubrey.”

Beca huffs out a laugh as her eyes start to sting. “I’ll take it to my grave.”

“Thank you,” Chloe says. “Anyway, then we moved here and you were… different. I couldn’t put my finger on it, at first, but then I noticed you were more okay with my, like, tactileness than you used to be. You know, little things like hugging and hand holding. Usually when we’d been drinking. I tried to convince myself that you were probably just a little touch starved after breaking up with Jesse. That it wasn’t about me specifically.”

Beca lifts their joined hands and kisses Chloe’s knuckles, then the back of her hand. She can’t believe she’d been worried about telling her part of the story -- that was nothing compared to hearing Chloe’s version. It’s almost too much to take.

“I know this is, like, totally stating the obvious, but I feel compelled to confirm that it _was_ about you, specifically. Especially when I was drunk -- I couldn’t help myself when I was around you, even when I was trying to hide it.”

“I can’t tell you how that makes me…” Chloe trails off, biting her bottom lip as she smiles. “I feel like my face is going to split in two, I’m smiling so much. Shit, okay, let me finish so we can be done with all the sad parts.”

Beca leans in to kiss Chloe’s cheek, unable to resist any longer. “So much for this being a short story, by the way.”

“Oh my god. Shut up.” Chloe giggles, blushing as Beca pulls away. “Okay, where was I? Unrequited longing... confusing touching... oh yes! Let’s just fast forward to the tapas night.

“There was this moment when I actually thought you were going to kiss me,” Chloe says. “In the hall, when you couldn’t find your keys. And the sangria had hit me hard, you know? As sangria often does. Then later, when we were in bed, I wanted to kiss you for, like, the tenth time that day. So I just… did. I thought you were kissing me back for a second there, but then you didn’t move. So I just played it off like it wasn’t a big deal and pretended to go to sleep.”

Beca frowns. If it was possible to go back in time and kick herself, she would.

Multiple times.

“I wanted to kiss you back,” she says. “I was like, in shock. I froze. Have I mentioned that I’m an idiot?”

“It’s okay. I totally get it -- I can only imagine the internal panic that must have caused you. At first, afterward, I was so worried that I’d made things awkward. Then the more I thought -- and I was up all night, so there was lots of time for thinking -- I realized that I let myself get swept up in a fantasy.

“It was almost like we were a couple -- living together, sleeping in the same bed, going on little dates,” Chloe continues. “It was so easy to pretend, because that’s what I wanted. But I convinced myself it was all in my head. And I knew I wouldn’t get over it, if I let the fantasy go any further. I knew it would break my heart. So I went back to my room.”

They’re only a few feet apart, but Beca can’t stand the distance anymore. She leans forward, pulling Chloe toward her by their joined hands, and kisses her the way she wished she did that night -- long and soft and slow. When she finally pulls back, she’s pleased to see that Chloe looks a little breathless.

“I overheard you talking to Aubrey one night,” Beca says. “On FaceTime. You told her you couldn’t do this to yourself anymore. That was about me, wasn’t it?”

Chloe nods. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that. But, come to think of it, Aubrey was rather insistent that I just talk to you before jumping to any conclusions.... Oh my god -- she and Amy must have compared notes from when we talked to each of them!”

“Noooo!” Beca covers her face with her free hand, cringing at the idea of their friends discussing them; of their friends knowing they liked each other before either of them worked it out for themselves. Ugh, they’re going to be insufferable. “Okay you _have_ to tell me what you said to Aubrey on that stupid bus. I need to know exactly what level of teasing I’m going to be facing, here.”

Chloe just rolls her eyes and laughs. “Alright, alright. Let me just get some more wine.”

***

Beca’s second glass of wine is forgotten on the coffee table after just a couple of sips. She’s just too caught up in talking to Chloe, reliving their flirtiest moments from over the past several months and sharing how they actually felt at the time.

It’s so fun for Beca to tell Chloe what she was really thinking when she pulled Chloe away from that jaw guy at Jason’s birthday, to clarify what was really going on in her mind during Cody and Ty’s roof party.

And hearing Chloe’s side of things is certainly… an experience. She definitely blushes when Chloe reveals that she was trying to get a reaction out of Beca that time she did her eyeliner in the bathroom.

“But I mean, that’s nothing compared to the karaoke bar,” Chloe says, smiling with her tongue caught between her teeth (which Beca certainly doesn’t stare at). “I was, like, pretty drunk, but I was still aware that I was really pushing my luck. I guess I just wanted to see when you would stop me. _If_ you would stop me.”

“Yeah…” Beca nods, aiming for nonchalance (and probably failing). “That was… something.”

“Wait. Was that, like, actually too much?” Chloe asks, eyes full of concern. “You did stand up really fast. Was it too far?”

“No no no,” Beca says. She places her hands on Chloe’s thighs, hoping the contact will reassure her. “Hard no, dude. It was, like, very welcomed. I just didn’t want Amy and Aubrey to see. They were about to turn around when I, uh, got up.”

“Ohhh. Yeah, I’d forgotten all about them.”

Beca laughs, shaking her head. “Sounds about right.”

“What do you think would’ve happened if they weren’t there?”

“Um. What?”

Chloe shrugs one shoulder, taking a sip of wine. “Like, in a scenario where we were on the couch like that, but there was no one else in the room.” She sets her glass down, letting that hypothetical hang there for a minute. “Would you have stopped me?”

Beca swallows thickly, heat rising to her chest as she remembers that night; Chloe pressed against her in the dark, her cheek on Beca’s shoulder, breath ghosting over her neck.

“I mean, who can ever really know what they would have done under slightly different circumstances,” she says, glancing longingly at her abandoned wine glass.

“I have an idea.” Chloe smirks at her with dark eyes that Beca so doesn’t trust. “Here, sit forward with your feet on the floor.”

Beca arches an eyebrow. “Are you serious?”

“Dixie Chicks serious,” Chloe says, and if Beca’s heart wasn’t already racing in anticipation she’d definitely be rolling her eyes right now.

Beca sighs and adjusts her position as requested. She’s not sure why she’s acting all reluctant -- she’s allowed to want this, now, and based on the way Chloe’s still smirking at her, Chloe can tell that she does. Maybe it’s just to protect her rep, she tells herself. She’s already been soft enough for one day.

Chloe makes a satisfied hum when Beca’s sitting the way she had been that night. Then she scoots in next to her, and Beca sees Chloe’s teeth sink into her bottom lip before she ducks her head, tucking it beneath Beca’s chin.

All Beca can do is try to breathe evenly as Chloe drapes her arm across her waist. It’s ridiculous -- because they’re practically sober and in their apartment, with the lights on -- but in some ways Beca feels like she did that night. She closes her eyes, surrendering to the illusion.

“I think your hand was around me too, Becs.”

“You know, for someone who claims she was pretty drunk that night, you sure can remember it with striking detail,” she says, laughing, before curing her arm around Chloe’s back and resting her hand on her hip. “Anything else?”

“Why don’t you tell me? I know you remember.”

“Alright, I’ll play along.” Beca sighs, willing herself not to sound too eager. “I think you, um, hooked your fingers through my belt loop.”

“Hmm,” Chloe hums, and Beca knows she said the right thing. She holds her breath as she feels Chloe curl her fingers around the thin strip of fabric. “Like this?”

“I-- Um--” Beca stammers, because no, not exactly -- but she doesn’t have the words to express that right now.

Luckily she doesn’t need to, because Chloe tightens her grip on the belt loop and tugs, sending waves of heat through Beca’s body.

“Or like this?”

“Hah, yeah,” Beca breathes. “That one. Definitely.”

Chloe tugs again, harder this time, and Beca tilts her head back, pressing her lips together to keep quiet.

“What else?” Chloe asks in a voice that sounds raspier than it did a few minutes ago.

“You, uh. You said something to me. I couldn’t hear you because of the music, but you were, like, basically talking into my neck.”

“Oh yeah,” Chloe says, laughing quietly. “I remember.”

She shifts against Beca, and then her nose is grazing Beca’s jaw, her breath hot on Beca’s skin. When she speaks her mouth is there, pressed against the column of Beca’s throat.

“I said, ‘You look so hot tonight, Becs.’”

The words -- combined with the sensation of Chloe’s lips on her neck -- shoot through Beca like fire, dropping into her stomach and sinking ever lower. She tightens her hold on Chloe’s hip, fingers digging into her.

Chloe exhales sharply against Beca’s throat, and suddenly this little game goes from being a reenactment to being the real thing. Because they’re turning each other on and this time they _know_ they both want it, and it’s so fucking sexy.

“You--” Beca stammers. “You really said that?”

“Yeah. Really meant it too,” Chloe says, lips still moving on Beca’s skin. “You looked so good, Becs. You always look so good.”

Chloe tugs on Beca’s belt loop again, briefly pulling the waistband of her jeans away from her skin, and this time Beca feels it between her legs. Next Chloe presses a kiss to the underside of Beca’s jaw, then another, then another.

Beca’s practically panting now, though she’s trying her best to hide it. God, she has it so bad for this girl.

“Chloe,” she whispers. Her hands are on Chloe’s body, grasping and pulling, trying to urge her closer. “ _Chloe_.”

Chloe finally gets the hint, rising up on her knees before stradling Beca’s hips. She sits lightly on Beca’s lap and leans in close.

“Hi,” she says.

And truly, Beca means to reply, but it gets lost somewhere along the way as she curls her hand around the back of Chloe’s neck and moves in to kiss her.

Beca smiles against Chloe’s lips, wondering if she’ll ever get over the shock of being able to touch her like this. It feels too good to be true -- all of it, this whole night -- and she’s still reeling from the bliss of it.

She almost can’t believe that something this amazing would happen to her. That she could be so lucky.

Then Chloe’s teeth scrape along her bottom lip and all of those thoughts go out the window. Beca sighs, grasping Chloe’s waist and pulling her closer, until their bodies are pressed together.

Chloe hums against Beca’s mouth before changing the angle of the kiss. She threads her hands into Beca’s hair, tugging on the strands ever so slightly, and Beca can’t stop the little sound that rises at the back of her throat. Chloe must like it, though, because then she’s running her tongue across the seam of Beca’s lips.

Beca exhales hotly, the sensation shooting straight to her very core, and Chloe takes the opportunity to slip her tongue into her mouth. Beca tightens her hold on Chloe’s waist, digging her fingertips into her as she meets Chloe’s tongue with her own.

It’s completely fucking intoxicating -- kissing her, tasting her -- and Beca knows they’re only making out but she’s pretty sure she’s never been this turned on in her life. And no, she never allowed herself to imagine making love to Chloe, but even if she had she knows she wouldn’t have envisioned their first time happening on this couch.

Chloe must be on the same page, because she slows down, pressing a few soft kisses to Beca’s mouth before pulling away, resting her forehead against Beca’s.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she pants.

“Yeah,” Beca says. “Fuck.”

They stay like that for a moment, holding each other as their breathing starts to return to normal. Beca pulls back first, unable to be that close to Chloe without kissing her again. She watches as Chloe’s eyes flutter open, blinking slowly as she focuses her vision. Her face is flushed and her lips are red and swollen, and for the life of her Beca can’t remember why they stopped kissing in the first place.

Chloe untangles her fingers from Beca’s hair and drops her hands to her shoulders, thumbs brushing along her collarbones. Beca wets her lips, and she’s about to lean in again when Chloe speaks.

“Should we go to your room?”

***

And they do go to Beca’s room, if not in the way either of them expected in that moment.

Because first they take turns brushing their teeth. And Beca does the dishes while Chloe’s in the bathroom, because she knows she doesn’t like when they sit in the sink all night. Then they change into their pajamas because they’ve been in jeans for far too long.

By the time they turn off the lights and crawl into Beca’s bed the two of them are hiding yawns behind their hands.

They make eye contact after Beca smothers a deep yawn in the crook of her elbow and they both laugh at how tired and pitiful they are.

“No, I’m like good though,” Beca says, lying down on her side. She find’s Chloe’s hip beneath the covers and tugs. “I’ll rally. This is me rallying.”

Chloe giggles, shaking her head as she inches in closer. She kisses the corner of Beca’s mouth and then her lips before she moves back, resting her head on the pillow.

“It’s been a long day, Becs,” she says, stroking Beca’s cheek. “I think we’re, like, emotionally exhausted. It’s okay if you’re tired.”

Beca’s about to protest when Chloe gets that annoyingly smug look on her face.

“Besides…” She looks Beca up and down, and even though she’s in a T-shirt and half under the covers, it makes her feel naked. “When we do have sex, I want you fully awake and alert.”

Beca’s eyes get comically large (well, she assumes, based on Chloe’s laugh) and her body feels at least 10 degrees hotter.

“Dude, you can’t just say stuff like that and expect me to go to sleep.”

“Sorry. I guess I’ll refrain from telling you about the things that I have planned…”

“Chloe!”

“Because I have plans, Becs. And I think you’ll like them.”

“Oh my god!” Beca presses her face into the pillow, sure her cheeks are tomato-red at this point. “I will banish you from this room. Don’t think I won’t.”

“Mmm, no you won’t.”

Chloe tucks a strand of Beca’s hair behind her ear. She kisses Beca’s temple, her cheek, her jaw, and Beca feels warm again, but in a heart-bursting kind of way.

She turns to look at Chloe. “Yeah. I won’t.”

Chloe grins and drapes her arm over Beca’s side. Beca mirrors the movement as she slides in even closer, slipping her leg between Chloe’s calves.

She kind of can’t believe it, but she actually feels sleepy again. But before she relents and lets her eyes drift closed, she has to tell her.

“Chloe?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.” Beca’s cheeks warm as she watches the sleepy smile that spreads across Chloe’s face. “I’m sorry it took me so long to realize. But I, like, really, really love you.”

Chloe blinks a few times, and Beca can’t be sure in the darkness, but she’d bet anything Chloe’s tearing up. (The sap.)

And okay, maybe Beca is too. (Sappiness must be contagious.)

“I love you, too,” Chloe says quietly. “You have no idea, Becs.”

Beca leans in and kisses Chloe again, just because she can.

She’s lost count of how many times they’ve kissed, now, but it still feels like _magic_.

***

Beca fights off sleep for as long as she can. As exhausted as she is, she doesn’t want this day to end.

Besides, who needs dreams when your reality is more wonderful than you ever dared imagine?

But her body wins out, eventually.

Beca’s last thought before she finally drifts off is that she can’t wait for the morning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for the 7 chapters of poor communication! looking forward to hearing your thoughts :D :D 
> 
> there'll be one more chapter to wrap things up...


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the confession. Beca and Chloe play hookie, finalize their living situation, and talk about what comes next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhhh this is it!!!
> 
> thanks for your encouragement and enthusiasm over the course of this fic! I'm so glad I finally dipped my toe into the bechloe fandom. 
> 
> I hope you guys like the ending. it's sappy and gross and you (and Beca and Chloe) deserve it <3
> 
> p.s. - note the rating change...

Beca’s never been much of a dreamer.

Like, in the literal sense. She doesn’t often dream when she sleeps. Or if she does, she doesn’t remember them.

She is dreaming this morning, though. It’s the kind where you know that you’re dreaming, even while you’re asleep. This dream is muted and blurry around the edges -- a subconscious watercolor that’s more emotion than anything else.

In it, she’s bathed in warmth, drowning in comfort and contentedness. She feels wonderfully still.

Peaceful, even.

And she desperately doesn’t want it to end.

Consciousness pulls at her, eventually, and try as she might to fight it off she’s no match for the incessant beeping of her alarm. She groans, blindly jabbing at her phone screen until the noise stops.

Ugh. That was such a good dream, too.

She rolls onto her side and tries to conjure up the feeling again. Maybe if she holds it in her mind as she drifts back to sleep, the dream will pick up where it left off.

Then she remembers.

***

She remembers Chloe’s hair fluttering around her shoulders in the December night.

She remembers the cherry-vanilla slide of Chloe’s chapstick on her lips, the softness of her sweater beneath her greedy fingertips.

She remembers the blinding astonishment she felt when Chloe said she loved her, too; the way it knocked the air from her lungs and stung the back of her throat.

She remembers _all_ of it.

Every impossible, thunderstruck moment.

***

Beca smiles to herself, joy flooding every inch of her.

She keeps her eyes closed as she reaches out for Chloe, searching for her beneath the covers. Chloe gets up a little later for work and she might not be awake yet, but Beca doesn’t care -- she has to feel this, too.

She needs them to feel this way _together_.

But Chloe isn’t there in the space next to her. Beca opens her eyes and confirms what she feared -- she’s in bed alone.

She can’t help the sinking feeling that comes over her, warring with the raw happiness she’d been drowning in only seconds ago.

She takes a deep breath and props herself up on her elbow, taking in the room in the early dawn light. There’s movement by the windows, and when she looks in that direction she nearly collapses back against her pillow in relief.

Chloe’s standing there on the hardwood floor in her bare feet, pressing up on her tiptoes as she looks outside. Beca gets distracted by her silhouette, the curve of her hips just visible through the fabric of her t-shirt, thanks to the morning sunlight.

Beca’s on her feet before her brain registers what she’s doing.

She pads quietly across the room, but Chloe must hear her coming, because when Beca slips her arms around her waist she doesn’t even flinch.

Chloe sighs happily as Beca crowds in behind her and presses her lips to Chloe’s shoulder. It’s cold here, by the windows, but Chloe feels so warm beneath the thin cotton covering her. Beca lets her hands drift lower, finding the hem of the shirt and fiddling with it for a moment before dipping under.

It feels like they’re both holding their breath as Beca’s fingers climb higher, chasing the heat of her, inching up Chloe’s shirt until her hands land on smooth skin. Beca exhales shakily as she rests her hands on Chloe’s waist, pinkies just above the drawstring of her shorts. Chloe takes a shallow breath, and Beca feels it beneath her fingers.

“Mmm, hi,” Chloe sighs. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Beca kisses the side of Chloe’s neck, making her shiver (and giving herself goosebumps). She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over touching her like this, after all those months of wanting.

Chloe covers Beca’s arms with her own beneath her t-shirt. Beca’s wondering why they’re standing over here and how quickly she can get them back into bed when Chloe speaks.

“Becs, did you see?”

“Hmm?” Beca presses her nose to the nape of Chloe’s neck, eyes closed and lost in the feel of her.

Chloe giggles. She gently moves one of Beca’s hands away from her body and holds her fingers to the freezing windowpane.

“Look,” she says. “It’s snowing.”

***

They call into work.

It’s a first for both of them in their young careers, and they feel kinda giddy as they don layer after layer of winter gear.

“I know we get sick days and everything, but it still feels wrong,” Chloe says, pulling on her warmest knit hat. “It’s like we’re playing hookie.”

Beca smiles up at her from where she’s crouched down, lacing up her boots. “Yeah, dude. That’s the best part.”

***

Even more snow has accumulated by the time they get outside. It comes up to their ankles on the stretches of sidewalk that aren’t shoveled yet, and it’s still falling at a steady rate.

Chloe loops her arm through Beca’s as they take off toward the park, going slow as the snow crunches and slides beneath their boots.

The streets are pretty desolate, aside from plows and the occasional bus. And it’s quiet -- so quiet -- like the snow is a blanket that’s been draped over the city, dampening every sound and making the world feel small and safe.

It gets even better once they reach the park. The trees are coated in snow -- as if they’ve been frosted -- and the weight of it has pulled their branches down low. As Beca and Chloe head down the main path it feels like they’re walking beneath a snowy trellis, trees bowing and arching over just for them.

“This is amazing,” Beca says. “I’ve never seen snow like this.”

“I know.” Chloe takes Beca’s mittened-hand in hers. “It’s so beautiful.”

Beca turns to her, wanting to see her face as she takes in the scenery.

But Chloe’s just looking at her.

***

Beca has only experienced snow a handful of times, but that’s a handful more than Chloe, so she adopts the role of Snow Expert.

Well, she tries, anyway. She’s only managed to lead them in making a few loose snowballs when she spots a group of kids going nuts a little ways off, and she and Chloe move closer so they can copy them.

(Good leaders know when to ask for help, right?)

The great (and terrifying) thing about city kids, Beca has learned, is their boldness. It’s not long before a couple of the boys notice them admiring their snowman-building skills and offer to teach them how it’s done.

And yeah, it hurts Beca’s pride to accept help from a couple of 10-year-olds, but Chloe looks so excited at the prospect of learning from these tiny professionals that she decides to suck it up.

Once the boys feel they’ve mastered the skills, they head back to their group. Beca and Chloe get to work making a three-tiered snowman, complete with branches for arms and pebbles for its eyes, mouth, and nose. Beca even places her hat on it for a little while, making sure the pom-pom is visible for the sake of photos.

She eventually lets Chloe coerce her into taking a few selfies with the thing (or “Buddy,” as Beca names him) and when Chloe shows her the photos on her phone Beca blushes when she sees how wide she’s smiling.

Next they make snow angels -- because Chloe wants a boomerang -- and even though Beca teases her (“Our whole feed is gonna be filled with these, Chlo.”) she can’t ignore how cute she looks, lying on her back and smiling up into the still-falling snow.

“Okay, I think we’ve got enough. You’re gonna be, like, soaked dude. Need I remind you you’re not in snow pants?”

“I have leggings on under my jeans, though.”

“Great, you’ll have two soaked pairs of pants, then.”

Beca rolls her eyes, reaching for Chloe’s hand to pull her up. Chloe takes it and Beca only has time to see the flash of her smirk before she’s being yanked downward. She shrieks as she loses her footing and collapses onto Chloe with so much force that even Chloe lets out an involuntary “ _oof_.”

“Oh my god, you bitch!” Beca yells.

She tries to glare at her but it’s no use, because she’s laughing as she pushes herself up on her hands. Chloe’s smiling up at her, with red cheeks and snowflakes on her eyelashes, and it suddenly feels like the world’s narrowed to the two of them.

Perhaps that’s why Beca is caught completely off guard when Chloe pushes on her shoulders and rolls her onto her back. Chloe’s pressed against her, now, chest-to-chest and nearly nose-to-nose. Beca waits for the cold to seep in through her clothing, but if anything it just feels warmer.

“Take it back,” Chloe says.

“What?” Beca wets her lips, watching as Chloe’s eyes follow the movement.

“You called me a bitch.” Chloe’s talking to her lips now. “Take it back.”

Beca swallows thickly. “I mean, what else would you call someone who physically pulls you into a snowbank? Against their will, I might add.”

“Umm someone who knows how to have fun, maybe?”

Chloe leans in closer, nose brushing over Beca’s, and Beca lets her eyes flutter closed. They stay like that for a few beats, Chloe’s breath hot on Beca’s mouth.

When Beca can’t take the tension anymore she lifts her chin, but Chloe turns her head just slightly, causing Beca’s lips to make contact with her cheek.

Beca pouts. “Sorry, did you want more banter or?”

“Mm-mm. You know what I want.”

“Oh my god, you psycho.” Beca huffs out a laugh. “You are obviously not a bitch, oka--”

Chloe cuts her off with her lips. Beca leans up into the kiss, closing her arms around Chloe and holding her tightly. Chloe hums as she sucks on Beca’s bottom lip before grazing it with her teeth.

And, shit, Beca knows they’re in public right now, but she can’t help but retaliate by slipping her tongue into Chloe’s mouth. Chloe gasps against Beca’s lips, and that’s when Beca finally gets goosebumps.

“ _Oooooooh_! Yo, look -- those ladies are kissing!”

Beca frowns as Chloe breaks away before reluctantly looking over in the direction of the interruption. The kids who had helped them earlier are all frozen in place, staring at them with a variety of expressions on their snotty little faces.

It’d be pretty funny, if Beca didn’t want them to just disappear.

“They’re in love!” one of the girls cries.

A chorus of “ew!” and “gross!” and “no they’re not!” comes from the boys, and Beca rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, actually, we are!” she shouts, surprising herself and Chloe, who gapes at her.

In the distance Beca hears the little girls croon “awww!” in unison, but she barely registers it, because Chloe is kissing her again.

***

They go home soon after because, as Beca predicted, it’s hard to stay warm after rolling around in the snow without insulated, waterproof pants.

It feels windier on the walk home and they’re still a few blocks away when Beca’s teeth start chattering. Normally she’d be kinda miserable, being this cold, but it’s hard to feel anything but happy with Chloe beside her.

They’re waiting for the walk signal at the last intersection before their street when Chloe notices that Beca’s shivering.

“Oh my god, you poor thing,” Chloe says, running her hands up and down Beca’s arms. “You’re like one of those little dogs who shakes when there’s a light breeze.”

“Before you continue this line of mockery, I’ll remind you that this is entirely your fault.” Beca narrows her eyes, letting her teeth chatter loudly for effect. “I had every intention of staying dry and upright until _someone_ attacked me.”

“Aww, poor baby.” Chloe pouts at her, bottom lip jutting out, and Beca can’t tell if she’s being serious nor not. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist -- you looked so cute and unsuspecting. Can you blame me?”

“Yes, actually, I can,” Beca says, even as her face warms from the compliment.

Chloe bites her bottom lip. “I’ll find a way to make it up to you.”

It’s an innocent statement, actually said in an innocent manner (which is saying something, considering it’s Chloe) but Beca still flushes from the not-so-innocent way her mind chose to infer the words.

Chloe doesn’t seem to notice, because she’s running her hands down Beca’s arms until she reaches her mittens.

“Becs, these are soaked!” she says, pulling them off of her. “No wonder you’re so cold.”

Beca rolls her eyes -- because riiight, like that’s the only reason -- as Chloe stowes the mittens in her pockets. Then she takes off her own gloves and rubs Beca’s hands between her own, creating warming friction.

Beca can’t help but smile -- it’s a sweet gesture, and such a Chloe thing to do. Then Chloe cups her hands around Beca’s, brings them up close to her mouth, and blows a stream of warm air across Beca’s fingers. She repeats the action twice more, eyes locked on Beca the whole time.

“Warmer?” she asks.

Beca can only stare at her, and she’s grateful when the lights change a second later, walk sign chirping that it’s time for them to cross.

“Yeah,” she says, clearing her throat. Chloe releases her hands so they can keep walking and Beca shoves them into her pockets. “Much warmer. Thanks, Chlo.”

Chloe winks at her before linking their arms together as they continue down the street, and Beca wonders if her intent wasn’t so innocent after all.

***

They take hot showers as soon as they get home. Chloe lets Beca go first, since her shivering has gotten embarrassingly out of control by this point.

Beca luxuriates in the hot water, skin tingling before it finally warms. She sort of wants to stay in there forever -- turning their little bathroom into a sauna -- but she knows Chloe must be pretty cold too, so she hurries up.

She’s a little anxious about what Chloe might say when she walks through her room in a towel, now that they’ve talked.

(And kissed.)

(And talked about doing more than kissing.)

But she needn't have worried, because Chloe just breezes past her, wrapped in a blanket, on her way to the bathroom. Beca hears her comment on it being “nice and toasty” in there before she closes the door behind her.

As Beca dresses, she realizes she may have overdone it with the water temperature. She can’t bear the thought of wearing pants or anything with sleeves, so she puts on a clean t-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts.

She sings to herself as she mindlessly goes through her post-shower routine, applying body lotion and toweling off her hair before running a brush through it. When she dabs moisturizer on her face in front of the mirror she sees that she’s smiling softly -- something she’s probably been doing this whole time.

There’s a small part of her that wants her to guard her feelings -- to remind her that things with Chloe are _so_ new, that they have a lot to discuss and figure out. But that voice in her head doesn’t have as much sway over Beca as it used to, and today she decides to flat-out ignore it.

It feels _good_.

“What are you smiling about?”

Beca turns to find Chloe leaning against her doorway, running her fingers through the ends of her wet hair. She’s in flannel shorts and a little tank top, and Beca knows she must have had the water cranked up to scalding, too.

“Oh, haha, um.” Beca shrugs and shakes her head. “Nothing. Just thinking.”

“Interesting. I’ve had some thoughts myself, actually.”

Chloe closes the space between them and Beca turns toward her instinctively, leaning back against her dresser. Beca gulps, trying her best not to imagine what kinds of things Chloe could have been thinking about in the shower. (Trying her best not to imagine Chloe in the shower in general.)

Chloe rests her hands on Beca’s hips, and Beca braces herself for whatever lascivious comment is about to come out of her mouth. But Chloe presses her lips together and glances away for a moment before meeting Beca’s gaze again.

“I was thinking about how important you are to me,” she says, voice soft. “And how I still can’t believe last night was real.”

Beca loops her arms around Chloe’s waist, feeling the backs of her eyes start to sting. “I know,” she breathes out. “Me too.”

“It was, though, right?” Chloe asks, crease forming between her brows. “It was real?”

It breaks Beca’s heart, seeing Chloe this vulnerable, this uncertain. She hates that Chloe has loved her for years and she didn’t know; hates that Chloe is doubting that this thing between them -- whatever it is -- is really happening.

Most of all, she hates that Chloe -- the bravest person she’s ever known -- is hesitant because of her.

And no, Beca has never been good at the whole talking thing. But she has to find a way to let Chloe know how she feels, to assure her that she’s not changing her mind; that she’s not going anywhere.

“Yeah, Chlo. It was real,” Beca whispers. She rests her forehead against Chloe’s and squeezes her eyes shut. “I swear. It was real and I love you.”

“ _Bec_ ,” Chloe says, letting out a shaky breath.

Beca isn’t sure if Chloe is going to say more, and she may never know, because she lifts her chin and kisses her.

It’s light and delicate, like their kiss on the roof, and Beca feels like she might break apart. She runs her hands up and down Chloe’s back, making her shirt rise up a little more each time.

Her mind drifts back to all the times she wanted to put her hands on her -- the cab ride home from Jason’s party, on the sofa in the karaoke bar, the first morning they woke up together, after Chloe’s nightmare, and the countless other moments over these last few months when Beca wanted Chloe and didn’t know why.

She’s done with holding back, now. And she thinks Chloe needs her to stop holding back, too.

So she dips her fingers beneath the hem of Chloe’s tank top, sliding her hands up her bare back. Chloe gasps against her lips, hips bucking forward and making Beca’s nails dig into her shoulder blades.

Beca changes the angle of the kiss, nipping Chloe’s bottom lip before she licks into her mouth. Chloe moans -- a sound that shoots straight to Beca’s core -- and eases her knee between Beca’s thighs. Beca has to pull away to breathe, letting her head loll back as Chloe rocks into her, pressing open-mouthed kisses down her neck.

“Wait wait, hang on,” Beca rasps, barely recognizing her own voice.

Chloe stops, but doesn’t go far. She rests her cheek against Beca’s, panting hotly beside her ear.

“Do you, um…” Chloe starts, pausing to take a couple shallow breaths. “Do you want to stop?”

Beca grips Chloe’s hips and gently pushes her back, putting some space between them. Chloe moves willingly, taking a step back as she searches Beca’s face, probably checking to see if she’s okay.

“No,” Beca says, taking Chloe’s hand. “I don’t want to stop.”

And she’s never the one to do this, at least not at first -- she’s too awkward and shy and weird. But today, as she holds Chloe’s hand and walks backwards toward the bed, she doesn’t feel anything but sure.

Chloe exhales heavily as she realizes Beca’s intent, following her across the room. Beca’s grateful when the backs of her knees hit the mattress because she doesn’t think she’ll be able to stand much longer. Chloe watches as Beca reclines on the bed -- still unmade, as they left it this morning -- and Beca’s near about to combust with anticipation when Chloe finally crawls on top of her.

It’s a heady rush, after that. Chloe’s lips are all over her -- her mouth, her throat, her collarbones. Her hands are on the move too, raking through Beca’s still-damp hair, slipping beneath her t-shirt, taking an achingly slow path along her ribs before finally reaching her breasts.

For her part, Beca can’t stop touching Chloe, either. She hooks her leg around Chloe’s hip to keep her close, kissing along her neck, her jaw, her earlobe. When she sucks on Chloe’s pulse point she’s rewarded with a moan so rich that Beca just sucks harder.

Soon Chloe has both of their shirts off, and Beca’s trying her best to work Chloe’s shorts down her hips -- no easy feat in her current state -- when Chloe pushes her back against the mattress and closes her mouth around her nipple.

“Jesus, Chlo,” Beca gasps, fingers tangling in Chloe’s hair. “Holy shit.”

“I know.” Chloe pants, nuzzling the underside of her breast. “You’re so fucking hot, Becs.”

Beca’s still fumbling with Chloe’s shorts when Chloe takes pity on her, rising up her knees so she can step out of them, pushing her underwear down with them. Beca takes the opportunity to shove her shorts and underwear off, too, and when Chloe moves to kiss her again Beca’s there to meet her, easing Chloe onto her back.

They look at each other for a moment and Beca’s struck by how unlikely all of this is -- that they’re naked in her bed with shower-wet hair in the middle of a snowy Wednesday afternoon.

It’s so implausible, that the universe would align for them like this. And yet it did. And it’s exactly where she needs to be.

She lies next to Chloe and kisses her, long and slow, as she trails her hand down her body, past her breasts and her belly button, drawing circles around her hip bones. Chloe’s getting pretty impatient, if the noises she’s making are any indication, and Beca can’t deny her for very long.

When she finally presses two fingers into her, Chloe moans softly, hips arching off the bed before grinding down on Beca’s palm.

It’s insanely hot and intoxicating, and all Beca cares about is getting her to do it again, and again, and again.

“ _There there there_ ,” Chloe pants. “Fuck, _Beca_.”

Now Beca’s the one who can’t believe this is real -- that she’s touching Chloe like this, pulling these throaty sounds from her (that have Beca pressing her thighs together).

It’s not long before Chloe’s clutching at Beca’s shoulders, making these sweet little cries that build and build until she’s shuddering out a moan and clenching around Beca’s fingers.

It’s the most beautiful thing Beca has ever seen.

“Holy shit,” she says breathlessly, peppering kisses across Chloe’s cheeks. “That was amazing.”

Chloe giggles before taking a deep breath, stretching lazily and running her fingers through her tangled hair.

“I think that’s my line, Becs. But yeah -- _holy shit_.”

Beca’s distantly aware that she should be coming up with a witty comeback, or just a response in general, but she’s too far gone to care. The matter is forgotten entirely a few minutes later when Chloe urges Beca onto her back and starts mouthing her way down her body.

Beca nearly blacks out when she feels Chloe’s teeth scrape bluntly against her hip bone.

Her thighs are quivering as Chloe parts them, and this time it’s definitely not from the cold. All Beca can do is bury one hand in Chloe’s hair and grip the sheets with the other as Chloe licks through her, right _there_ , drawing a moan from Beca that she’s sure their upstairs neighbors can hear.

Chloe nearly has her on the edge of delirium -- practically squirming beneath her -- when Beca is hit with the feeling that something isn’t right. She props herself up on her elbows, getting Chloe’s attention with a hand on her shoulder.

Chloe rests her cheek against the inside of Beca’s thigh, eyebrows rising in question -- an image Beca knows she won’t be able to get out of her mind for a long, long time.

“Too far,” Beca says. She takes Chloe’s hand and tugs it with her as she lies back down. “You’re too far. Come here.”

Chloe smiles as she climbs over her before kissing the corner of her mouth. “Better?”

Beca nods, feeling kind of sheepish, now. “Yeah.”

Chloe kisses her again, square on the lips this time. “Good,” she says, pulling her hand from Beca’s grasp. “I’m gonna need this, though.”

Beca’s already so close that she’s moaning again as Chloe slides her fingers inside her.

“God, Beca, you sound so good,” Chloe says, lips moving against Beca’s neck. “You’re so beautiful like this.”

The words settle hot and low in Beca’s stomach, a pleasant pressure coiling just beneath them.

“ _Fuck_ , baby,” Beca cries, just as Chloe brushes her thumb over her clit.

And that’s all it takes.

Beca’s hips are arching off the mattress as she holds Chloe against her, sobbing out little moans into the crook of her neck. It feels like an eternity before Beca goes limp, collapsing bonelessly onto the pillows.

Once she catches her breath Chloe kisses her again, long and wet and languid. When they break apart Beca hugs Chloe to her, stroking her hands up and down her back.

“I can’t believe it,” she says once she starts coming to her senses.

Chloe kisses the side of her neck a few times before replying. “What?”

“That we could’ve been doing that for _years_ , if I wasn’t such an idiot.”

Chloe laughs, propping herself up on one elbow to look at her. “Well on the bright side, it gave me a lot of time to get good at that.” She lets her gaze rake down Beca’s body, and even after everything Beca still blushes.

“You did say you had plans,” Beca says, chuckling quietly. “And they definitely, uh, delivered.”

Chloe moves over Beca and takes her earlobe between her teeth, tugging gently. “Just wait, babe,” she whispers. “I’m just getting started.”

***

“Mmmm, Becs, this is so good.”

“See? And you mocked me for watching those hot chocolate YouTube recipes.”

“Well in my defense, it wasn’t even Thanksgiving at the time.”

“Whatever. I was preparing for this very moment.”

Chloe blows softly across the steaming surface of her mug, looking at Beca with a glint in her eye. “For after we had sex?”

Beca nearly chokes. “No! For after, like, winter activities and snowman building and stuff…”

“I know. I’m just messing with you.” Chloe giggles. “You’re too easy.”

Beca rolls her eyes and takes a tentative sip of her drink. She’s glad she took the time to make it from scratch, with steamed milk and cocoa powder -- it really does taste amazing.

They’re sitting together on the couch, bundled up in sweats and cuddling under Chloe’s fleece blanket. (It turned out to be pretty cold in here, once their body temperatures returned to normal.) Beca feels happy and light in a way she hasn’t felt since…. well, she can’t remember when.

Maybe that’s why she’s emboldened to introduce the final conversation that they need to have.

“So, like, not to be that girl, but... what happens now?”

Chloe raises an eyebrow. “With us?”

“Yeah. With us.”

“What do you want to happen?”

Beca holds her mug in both hands, letting it warm her. She shrugs one shoulder. “Everything.”

And, oh. She hadn’t totally meant to say that. But Chloe’s beaming at her, to the point where she looks like she could emit a high-pitched squeak at any moment, and Beca can’t say she regrets it.

“ _Everything_?”

“Yeah, I mean. Like in the usual sequential order and stuff. Not all at once. Let’s not go crazy here, Beale.”

Chloe presses her face against Beca’s neck, actually squealing a little bit. “Hey, you’re the one who said it, _Mitchell_.”

“Alright, let’s not get bogged down in who said what. The point is… you’d be, like, down for that?”

Chloe kisses Beca’s cheek before leaning back to look at her. “I’m actually going to need you to be more specific.”

“Of course you’re gonna make me do this,” Beca says, sighing. “Okay, um. Dating?”

Chloe nods, smiling like this is the happiest moment of her life. “I’m down with dating. So like, exclusive, or--”

“Yes!” Beca says, surprised by the vehemence in her voice. “Obviously. Jeez.”

Chloe smothers a giggle against Beca’s shoulder. “Sorry. I just wanted to see your reaction. And it was worth it.”

Beca grumbles and takes a sip of her hot chocolate.

“So it almost sounds more like… girlfriends,” Chloe says. She takes a sip from her mug, too, looking at Beca coyly.

Beca presses her lips together, trying to ignore how fast her heart is beating. “Yeah. I guess it does.”

Their mugs clink together as Chloe leans in and kisses her. Beca laughs against Chloe’s mouth before kissing her back, sliding her free hand around her waist, under the blanket.

When they break apart a few minutes later, she murmurs one final question against Chloe’s lips.

“So is it, like, too soon for me to ask about moving in together?”

***

Beca’s coworkers can totally tell something is up.

Alicia is the first to call her on it.

“You’re, like, way too smiley lately Beca,” she says, over bagel sandwiches at the deli next to the office. “What gives?”

Beca just shrugs one shoulder and tries her best not to smile. She’s not sure why she hasn’t told them. Although, they haven’t told anyone yet. It’s only been a couple days, and they’ve spent every second of their free time holed up together.

“Oh my god,” Caleb says, gaping at her with wide eyes. “You finally put a ring on it, didn’t you?”

Jason actually gasps. “With the wifey?!”

Beca can’t help the smile spreading across her face now. She guesses there’s no point in denying it.

“Um yeah kinda sorta...” she says, taking a sip of her iced coffee as she blushes.

Her coworkers let out a loud cheer -- Caleb raising his arms like his team just got a touchdown -- and people at nearby tables turn to glare at them.

And it’s so lame and definitely singles them out as non-New Yorkers, but for once Beca doesn’t care, not even a little bit.

She can’t stop smiling.

***

They FaceTime Amy on Saturday.

Amy takes one look at them, huddled in close so they can fit both of their faces in the shot, and nods to herself with this smug expression on her face.

“So, how was it?” she asks.

“How was... what?” Beca replies, cautiously.

“Um, the sex?” Amy says, like she’s talking to the dumbest person alive. “Oh my god, it’s so obvious. You may as well have ‘We’re boning!’ stamped across your foreheads.”

Beca groans, hiding her face in her hands. But Chloe just grins.

“It’s _great_!”

***

As annoying as Amy can be sometimes, she’s totally cool when they tell her that they want to stay in their apartment, just the two of them.

In fact, it sounds like she’d been pretty much counting on it, since she’s already signed a lease for a studio in Brooklyn. Beca has a sneaking suspicion Amy was just putting the screws on her by sending all those texts with three-bedroom apartment listings.

Well, Amy’s methods aren’t traditional, but Beca guesses they did the trick, in their own weird way.

Beca encourages Chloe to tell Aubrey privately. She has a feeling Aubrey’s known about Chloe’s feelings for a while now, and figures she should let them talk one on one.

Besides, she’s a little afraid that Aubrey will yell at her for being so slow to get her act together, so she’s happy to sit this one out. (She does get a slew of excited texts from Aubrey soon after, which is pretty sweet.)

A few days later they tell the Bellas by sending a photo of them kissing to the group chat. (It was Chloe’s idea, and the fact that Beca so readily agreed to it confirms, once again, just how head-over-heels she is for this girl.)

Their phones blow up for three days straight.

Legacy even calls them crying.

Before they know it, it’s Christmas.

It sucks to have to separate so soon after getting together -- Chloe flying to Florida and Beca to her mom’s -- but they stay in constant communication the whole time, just like they did over Thanksgiving.

(Plus, the time apart just makes coming back together that much sweeter.)

(And hotter.)

Once the holidays are over and they get back to the daily grind, it strikes Beca that nothing has changed, much.

Not externally, anyway -- the usual rhythms of their lives continue as they always have. Chloe does move into Beca’s room more formally -- bringing her bedside table, a few photos, and the rest of her plants -- but she mostly keeps her room as is. It’s just easier to store her clothes there, and it’ll be good to have a spare bed for when they have guests.

But, internally, Beca’s whole world is different. It’s soft and bright, full of melodic laughter and caring touches. She feels ooey and gooey and loved up in the best and grossest of ways.

It’s disgusting, really.

God she’s like so fucking happy.

***

Beca comes bursting through the door one night in the middle of February.

“Shit, it’s cold,” she says as she takes off her boots and coat. “Can it be spring now, please?”

“Aww.” Chloe laughs from her seat at the kitchen table, where she’d been typing on Beca’s laptop. “I’ll see what I can do about that, babe.”

Beca presses her lips together to hide her smile. She doesn’t think she’ll ever get over Chloe calling her that.

She reaches into her bag and pulls out a box wrapped in shiny pink paper. Chloe doesn’t notice -- her attention back on the screen in front of her -- and Beca is able to sit across from her and hide the gift on her lap.

“Still want to get Thai for dinner?” Chloe asks, glancing up. “The usual, right? Just about to hit ‘order’ on Seamless.”

“Yeah. That sounds great.”

Beca waits for her to finish the order, taking deep breaths as her pulse speeds up. Once Chloe closes the laptop and smiles at her, Beca places the box on the table and slides it toward her.

Chloe’s eyebrows rise. “What’s this?”

“Just a little something,” Beca says, glancing up at the ceiling as she smirks. “Open it.”

Chloe grins at her as she takes the gift and slowly starts to unwrap it.

“So I talked to the landlord today,” Beca continues.

“Why?” Chloe pauses, looking over at her. “He knows we’re not actually breaking the lease, right?”

“Yeah no, he knows. It wasn’t about that.”

Chloe lets out a breath and goes back to opening the present. Beca waits for her to take the lid off the box before she continues.

“I wanted to ask him about something that requires written permission, as stipulated in our lease.”

Chloe’s mouth falls open as she lifts the tissue paper and sees what’s inside the box. She takes out the item -- a bright blue dog collar -- and holds it up in front of her. Beca can see her eyes are already misty when she reads what’s embossed on the silver tag.

“Bandit?” Chloe whispers.

She meets Beca’s eyes with this astounded look on her face, a small tear sliding down her cheek.

“I figured it’s about time we make him part of the family,” Beca says, blinking rapidly to fend off her own tears. “I mean, if you want. The landlord said it’s cool, by the way. And your boss said he’s still available. Bandit -- not the landlord.”

Chloe just stares at her, shaking her head in disbelief. And if it was anyone else Beca would be doubting herself now -- wondering if she did something wrong -- but she never feels that way with Chloe.

So she just waits as Chloe sets the collar back in the box, walks over to Beca, and bends down to kiss her.

Beca kisses her back, heart nearly bursting when she feels the tremble in Chloe’s bottom lip. She stands slowly, never breaking contact, and loops her arms around Chloe’s neck so she can kiss her more deeply.

“God, I love you so much, Becs,” Chloe says once the kiss winds down. She tucks a strand of Beca’s hair behind her ear. “You’re my favorite person. You know that?”

Beca just smiles. “Yeah, I might have heard that once.”

***

Bandit practically pulls Beca across the threshold when they get back from his morning walk.

“You’re not even full grown yet, dude, how are you stronger than me?” Beca asks him as she shuts the door behind them.

She unhooks his leash and takes off her jacket (a lighter one, now that it’s finally getting warmer) before hanging it on the coat rack. Once she toes off her shoes she looks around for Bandit -- who’s always very quietly getting into something -- and finds him whining softly at the closed door to Chloe’s room.

“Oh my god.” He glances back at Beca, tilting his head, and she gives him the most exaggerated eye roll. “You’re _such_ a mama’s boy, bud. It’s kinda pathetic.” Bandit whines again, making pointed eye contact with Beca. “I mean, I get it though. She is pretty awesome.”

Beca walks over and opens the door, following Bandit as he sprints into the room.

“Chlo, your child want--”

Beca’s words die on her lips as she spots Chloe standing in front of her open closet.

Completely naked.

“Oh my god, dude!” Beca holds up her hand to partially avert her eyes. “I told you this would happen one day!”

Chloe snickers as she walks over to her. She closes her fingers around Beca’s wrist and pulls her hand down.

“You’re, like, so weird,” she says, shaking her head as she smiles. “Nothing you haven’t seen before. Nothing you haven’t seen, like, 30 minutes ago.”

“But-- I-- Whatever!” Beca splutters. “I still think we need a system.”

Chloe winds her arms around Beca’s waist and steps in closer, pressing her whole body against her. Beca grips Chloe’s hips, eyes automatically dropping to her mouth.

“Baby, why don’t we just take the door off the hinges?” Chloe asks, in this sultry voice that she knows Beca is a sucker for.

Beca doesn’t answer, because her lips are already on Chloe’s.

***

(But yeah.)

(She thinks that might work.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. pls let me know what you thought!!
> 
> 2\. I may be open to missing scene prompts for this 'verse so... if you have any ideas, feel free to [drop me a line](https://cheapthrillsbeca.tumblr.com/ask)

**Author's Note:**

> so, what'd you think?? also feel free to hit me up over on [cheapthrillsbeca on tumblr](https://cheapthrillsbeca.tumblr.com).


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